The Fire of A Thousand Suns
by Amphitrite II
Summary: In the seventy years between the end of the Hundred Year War and the Equalist Revolution, the United Republic of Nations is formed, Republic City is founded, and love blooms between Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko. :::Zukaang slash, mention of Kataang status quo, Legend of Korra crossover, future fic, canon divergence:::
1. Book One: Chapter 1

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book One: Chapter 1  
****By Amphitrite II**

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**Summary: **_On a sweltering summer night, Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko discover their mutual attraction. But Aang marries his childhood sweetheart Katara, a slight Zuko spends years struggling to accept. Until one day, an older, wearier Aang shows up in the Fire Nation and tells Zuko that he's left Katara.  
_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the Avatar: The Last Airbender and Avatar: Legend of Korra universe, their characters, and their situations, none of which I own.  
**Notes:** Let's be real. This fandom needs more Zukaang, and this pairing needs more longfic. This is my humble contribution. Enjoy!

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_**Present day, ASC 138**_

Three weeks after Tenzin turned eighteen, his parents announced their separation.

His father and mother had been together for thirty-eight years and married for thirty-two. They had raised three children, lavishing upon them the love and guidance that they had received in their early childhood, before extreme circumstances had forced them to grow up too quickly. The bond Aang and Katara shared, born in a time of war and allowed to flourish in the world they had saved together, was steadfast, loyal, and interminable — or so Tenzin had believed.

Aang declared the news with solemn straightforwardness characteristic of his later age. The once cheerful, reluctant hero had grown into a serious man, a change rooted in the difficulty of maintaining peace and healing the wounds sowed by the Hundred Year War, some deeper than he and his friends had ever imagined. Diplomacy had quickly worn away at his childish innocence. But with his children, Aang mostly maintained his cheer and love of goofing around. Kya and Bumi had inherited those qualities, but from an early age Tenzin had admired the authority his father held as a considerate but serious leader. All his life, he had striven to emulate that calm strength and to command that kind of respect.

"Dad, you can't be serious!"

Kya had shot up in her seat in horror, to nobody's surprise. Kya was always the first to react to anything, constantly wearing her heart on her sleeve. Tenzin thought briefly of her wild and impetuous adolescence years and winced. He hoped she wasn't upset enough to destroy any property through her waterbending prowess.

"Sit down, young lady," Katara ordered. "Let your father speak."

"Yeah, Kya," Bumi said in a stage whisper, poking her in the ribs. With a glare, she smacked his hand away.

Accustomed to the antics of his children, Aang continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "I know you're upset, Kya. But I am serious. Your mother and I need some time to ourselves. We've been together for so long, and we love each other so much. But some space will be good for us. It will be good for all of us."

He covered Katara's hand on the table with his and squeezed it fondly with a smile. Always one to observe before judging a situation, Tenzin watched the exchange with morbid curiosity: His mother simply stared at the hand without smiling back. A sinking feeling overtook his stomach. Was there something his parents weren't telling them? Had Aang talked Katara into a separation that Katara did not want?

But Aang did not seem to notice anything awry.

"I will be leaving the United Republic for a time. I must deal with some unfinished business," he said cryptically. "You are all of age now. You don't need your doddering old man around anymore."

"Aw, Dad, don't say that," Bumi said with a grin. "We'll love you even when we have to feed you and clean up after you."

Aang laughed. Good old Bumi, Tenzin thought proudly. His eccentric and completely inappropriate older brother irritated the hell out of him most days, but if there was one thing Bumi was good at, it was brightening up an uncomfortable moment. Even Katara smiled at his words.

"I'm going to go visit the Southern Water Tribe," she said. "Which reminds me. Kya, I would like you to join me."

Kya wrinkled her nose. "Why me? Why not these dweebs?" She motioned to Bumi and Tenzin.

Katara's brows creased in a frown. "You know very well that Bumi gets shipped out at the end of the week and Tenzin will soon return to Republic City University," she said sharply.

"Yeah, yeah," Kya grumbled. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask," Katara said.

"Great," Aang said happily and almost nonchalantly clapped his hands together with satisfaction, as if he hadn't just dropped an enormous bomb on his family. He stood up and kissed his wife on the cheek. "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back for dinner."

Kya and Bumi cleared out almost immediately, engaging in an argument within the thirty seconds it took walk out of the room. Tenzin watched his father go and his mother stare after him with her hands clenched in her lap. Old age was suddenly apparent in her features — worry lines, weary eyes, slumped shoulders. She had shrunken steadily as he aged and shot upward like a hyperactive sprout.

"Mother," he tried. There was no use disguising the concern in his voice. Katara always saw past his attempts at suppressing his sometimes overpowering emotions.

"No, Tenzin," Katara said gently. "We've made our decision."

"Maybe," Tenzin said carefully. "But is it a mutual one?"

Katara stiffened visibly, pressing her lips in a straight line.

"Yes," she said. "I've kept him long enough."

With that, she rose from her knees and left a puzzled Tenzin at the table.

* * *

Tenzin sensed his father's approach before he saw him, Aang's step always light but purposeful on the ground. He marked his page with the orange leaf serving as his bookmark and closed the history book he was studying, setting the heavy tome beside him. Aang joined him under the tree, looking exhausted.

"How are your studies going, Tenzin?"

Tenzin looked at him thoughtfully. He severely doubted that his father had come to find him just to ask him about school.

"They're okay," he said. Aang made a humming noise of approval and picked up a leaf, twirling it between his fingers before letting it float away in the wind. A deafening silence rested between father and son. Patiently, Tenzin let his father gather his words as he stared at the sun glowing above the majestic curve of the mountains in the distance.

"You didn't say anything earlier," Aang said finally. So there it was. Aang wanted to know how he felt about the news.

Tenzin shrugged, not sure what to say. "The decision has been made. It's not up to us to dictate what you and Mother do."

"Yes," Aang said, "but your support would mean a lot to me."

Tenzin looked at the man he so admired and noted that, like Katara, Aang was showing signs of age and fatigue. It scared him more than he liked, the thought of his parents growing old. And now without each other? The idea seemed ridiculous and grieved him to imagine.

Carefully, he said, "What I don't understand is why."

Aang sighed and spoke slowly, almost pained, as if the words were not ones he was accustomed to or comfortable with speaking aloud. It was not often Tenzin witnessed such uncertainty in his father's demeanor.

"I love your mother very much," Aang began. "She has put up with so much throughout the years. She has done a wonderful job raising you all, and every day I wish I were as strong as her and always followed my convictions.

"Tenzin, many years ago, I almost left your mother. It was when we were dating. On a visit to the Fire Nation, something happened that convinced me I could no longer be with her. But you know your mother. She would have none of it. She forgave me for the wrong I did her and asked me to marry her." Aang smiled wryly. "We were all so young and so foolish. But I don't regret it for one second."

There were many gaps in this strange and surprising story, Tenzin knew, but he let his father continue. He had a feeling that Aang needed this more than he did.

"The thing is… Your uncle Zuko and I…" Aang swallowed, eyes darting to Tenzin nervously before skittering away. Tenzin had no idea what Uncle Zuko had to do with anything but knew his father was doing his best to explain. "Zuko and I are the best of friends. You know that."

Everyone on the planet knew about the legendary friendship between Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko. Every child learned in primary school that it had been their willingness to work together that had ended the Hundred Year War, enabled war-torn nations to heal and rebuild themselves, and spread peace across the lands. Songs and nursery rhymes had been written about their epic alliance.

Tenzin was fond of Uncle Zuko, who had been a regular fixture in his childhood, since Aang insisted on taking his children to visit the Fire Nation twice a year. Tenzin would never tell anyone, but he knew that Uncle Zuko liked him best out of Aang's three children. Famous for his quick temper, Uncle Zuko was not very good with children — especially rambunctious ones like Kya and Bumi — but Tenzin had never been much of a child. He enjoyed talking to Uncle Zuko about politics and art and philosophy, although he had learned early on that history was a topic to be avoided.

Aang took Tenzin's silence as encouragement to continue. He took a deep breath.

"I'm in love with him," he said.

Tenzin couldn't help it — he gasped. But at the sight of misery on his father's face, he cursed his lack of control and tried to disguise his shock under a neutral expression.

"Father?" he said, mind racing as he tried to recall every interaction he had ever witnessed between Uncle Zuko and his father. He struggled to find something to say. "Does he know? Does…Mother?"

Aang continued, quieter and less certain now. "Zuko told me he loved me a long time ago and asked me to be with him. I hated myself for wanting to. And then, Katara… I married your mother. She convinced me that the feelings were nothing. I wanted to believe her, but the truth was that I never stopped thinking about Zuko. I still haven't." He looked Tenzin in the eye now and said desperately, "You have to understand, Tenzin, I have never intended to hurt anybody. Not your mother, not you children, not Zuko. But in my foolishness and cowardice, I have refused to accept the truth and in turn, hurt everyone I love."

The silence hung thick and heavy in the wake of Aang's pained confession. Tenzin hesitated.

"You're leaving us to go to him," he said. He instantly regretted his words, the accusatory tone marring what he had intended to be a simple question. He had no desire to add to his father's pain. But it hurt, the thought of his father, such a good man, leaving his mother because he wanted to be with somebody else. Still, if it was the truth, he had to know.

"Yes," Aang said. There was wonder in his voice, as if he hadn't quite realized that he had made such a radical decision. "For so long, I have tried to push the feelings away. I had a duty to fulfill, and I love your mother so very much. But you are all grown now, and time grows shorter for me." Tenzin noticed that his father's eyes were suspiciously watery, but he didn't say anything. "I am weary, Tenzin. Weary of fighting it. Long ago, Zuko told me that his flame for me would never die. If there's even the slightest chance of that being true… I have to know.

"Do you understand?"

Tenzin's mind flashed instantly to Lin, his girlfriend of one year and three months. He pictured her long, dark hair and her eagle-like eyes, steely and sharp except for the seconds after he kissed her, when they filled with soft warmth. His love for her was inexplicable and so strong; he sometimes felt overwhelmed by his fierce desire to protect her from the evils of the world in order to preserve her stringent sense of morality and fighting spirit. He imagined being forced to be away from her but loving her all the same and had to quickly shake off the feeling. It hurt too much to think about.

Tenzin looked at his father now, thinking about all that Aang had sacrificed for his family, all the while struggling to stave off his feelings. He was so strong, and in every way Tenzin's hero, despite this unexpected betrayal. There was something resolute and fiery in Aang's eyes, something Tenzin had never seen before. It looked good on him.

"I understand, Father," he said. "I just want you to be happy. If you believe this is the right thing to do, then I support you."

Aang's smile was like the first sign of sun after a stormy South Pole winter.


	2. Book One: Chapter 2

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book One: Chapter 2  
****By Amphitrite II**

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_**32 years ago, ASC 106**_

"What do you mean the flower arranger won't be able to make it?"

The decorator winced at Zuko's raised voice and piercing glare. "Exactly what I said, sir, Isashi's son has fallen ill and —"

"Then hire someone else, you imbecile!" Zuko roared. "This is Avatar Aang's birthday! It has to be perfect!" The bespectacled man shrunk a little into himself as he nodded, shuffling through his papers nervously. Zuko rolled his eyes and waved his hands in the air in exasperation. "Well, hurry up! Aang is due to arrive in two hours."

As soon as the other man was out of sight, Zuko brought a hand to his temple with a groan. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea. He knew Aang loved parties but had no idea how to host one, so he had insisted on organizing a celebration for his eighteenth birthday. Planning for the event had begun two months previous, and Zuko was completely exhausted. He knew he only had himself to blame, though. He was obsessing over every detail, from the color of the streamers to the drink menu to the waiting staff. After all, Aang deserved the absolute best, and as his best friend, it was Zuko's duty to fulfill that.

Having spent the morning hovering over the party planners he had hired, Zuko decided to retire to his chambers until Aang arrived. His nerves were a jangled mess of knots, as they tended to be before all of Aang's visits. The last time he had seen him had been almost four months ago. They wrote to each other regularly, but still, the longer it had been since the last visit, the more paranoid Zuko grew that upon their reunion, Aang would find his company lacking and temper unbearable. He was proven wrong every time, of course, but his mind insisted on torturing him every time.

Part of it could probably be attributed to the embarrassingly intense feelings he had for Aang. Aang, who was a saint for putting up with all his nonsense and always forgiving him when he lashed out. Aang, whose features radiated cheerfulness and youthful vigor no matter how frustrating being a diplomat in a war-torn world could be. Aang, who had fought beside him and helped him put the Fire Nation back together. Aang, who had shot up suddenly, rivaling Zuko in height and ceaselessly teasing him about it. Aang, who had witnessed his darkest moments and stood beside him in his most triumphant ones. Aang, who always caught him whenever he faltered when it came to his duties and his people. Aang, who never tired of reassuring him that he was a good Fire Lord, knowing that he needed to hear the words. Aang, who always tackled him with a hug when he first saw him and held on for a little too long, giving Zuko false hope.

Aang, who had been with Katara since he was twelve and showed no signs of having grown any less smitten with her.

Zuko sighed. Weary of the difficulty of carrying such a heavy secret within him, he had made the decision make his feelings known to Aang at last — tonight, if he could manage the terrifying task of getting the words out. If Aang rejected him, then Zuko logically had no reason to go on in this way and could put the matter at rest. If Aang didn't reject him… Well. Zuko wasn't going to go down that road of thinking. Hope was too dangerous an emotion to be toyed with.

But it didn't mean that he neglected to send a tiny prayer to the spirits that things would go the way he wanted more than anything.

* * *

Aang arrived twenty minutes earlier than expected, with his old entourage in tow. Upon spotting Zuko, he immediately barreled toward him with his arms outstretched. Zuko couldn't help but break into a wide smile himself as Aang grabbed him in a hug. As always, Aang was both literally and figuratively a ball of energy, warm and full of life. Zuko hoped it was just his imagination that he felt even taller than he had seemed on his last visit.

Aang held him at arm's length and looked him up and down. Zuko took the moment to examine his friend as well. Wearing a formal set of Air Nomad robes and a bright smile, he looked every inch a happy young adult, but the generations of wisdom he carried within shone in his eyes.

"You look good, Zuko," he said. Zuko tried very, very hard not to blush. He had spent an embarrassing length of time laboring over his attire and his appearance.

"You do, too," he replied clumsily, resisting the urge to pull his friend into another embrace. "Happy birthday, Aang."

"Thanks for inviting us, Zuko," piped up a voice beside them. Zuko had barely noticed Katara and the others standing right behind Aang. He smiled at them now, genuinely glad to have company other than rulers and diplomats and his staff. It had been a while since he had seen Aang, but the others he had not seen for much longer.

"Thank you for making it," he said. "Come on, I'll show you to your rooms so you can put your bags down and rest after what must have been a long journey. Dinner will be served in the dining hall at six sharp. The festivities will begin afterward." Sokka let out a loud whoop at that news, to which everyone laughed. Already, the cold, lonely palace atmosphere felt ten times warmer than Zuko was accustomed to.

Aang babbled the entire way about what he had been doing the past few months, keeping everyone entertained with tales of his time in Republic City. One by one, the guests retired to their rooms. Zuko dropped Aang off at his room last.

Aang threw his bag onto his bed and then rejoined Zuko next to the door.

"Where to next, Sifu Hotman?"

Zuko rolled his eyes at the old nickname, though he couldn't hide the upward quirk of his lips.

"Next, you rest," he said. "I want you awake at your own party, after all."

"I'm not tired," Aang insisted. "We haven't seen each other for months, and you want me to sleep?"

"Well, no," Zuko huffed, "but aren't you tired from traveling?"

"Don't be silly," Aang said, grabbing his arm and running back out into the hallway. He called over his shoulder, "Come on, I want to see the turtle ducks!"

Zuko happily let himself be dragged out to the gardens, knowing that he couldn't deny his friend what he wanted — least of all on his birthday.

* * *

Zuko was not fond of parties, but he had to admit that he threw a pretty decent one. The party had been going on for hours but showed no sign of dying down. The ballroom was filled with people merrymaking and having a good time. Aang had made many friends over the years, and hardly anyone wanted to miss the chance to celebrate the Avatar's birthday with him. Sokka and Toph were running a drinking contest in the center of the room, Suki and Haru had commandeered a table and were dancing on top of it, and Katara, Pipsqueak, and the Duke were talking animatedly about something in the middle of a huge circle of people from different nations.

Aang was nowhere in sight, though. Zuko frowned and got out of his seat to search for him.

He found him alone outside on the balcony. Leaning against the gold balustrade, Aang gazed up at the summer night sky, clearly deep in thought. Zuko shut the foggy door behind him and just watched Aang for a moment, taking in the folds of his elegant but simple robes and the perfect curve of his head.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping closer so that he was leaning comfortably on the bar on his elbows. Aang's eyes only flickered to him briefly before settling back on the stars, but he was smiling now.

"Hey," he echoed just as quietly.

"Bored of the party already?" Zuko teased, pretending he wasn't mildly offended that the guest of honor had escaped the throngs of people there to celebrate him.

"Of course not," Aang replied. "The party is awesome! I haven't had this much fun in a long time. I can't thank you enough for doing this, Zuko."

"Oh," Zuko said, pleased. "It's nothing. But why are you out here, then?"

"I just needed to get some air," he explained. Zuko nodded, not bothering to point out that it was just as hot out here as it was inside the ballroom. He had been getting pretty overheated himself in there, and he hadn't even been mingling in the crowd for most of it. Following Aang around the floor had grown tedious after an hour, so he had settled in a chair and been content to just watch everyone have fun. "I can't believe I'm eighteen now."

Zuko wrinkled his nose. "I can't believe you're _only_ eighteen."

Aang elbowed him lightly. "What, you're already thinking of me as an old man?"

"Well, you sure do act like it sometimes," he responded. "You like tea, you're always dispensing pearls of wisdom, and you find the most ridiculous things entertaining. After all, I've never seen Uncle Iroh get along with any of his White Lotus friends better than he does with you."

"That's because I'm friendly, not because I'm old!" Aang protested. Zuko smirked and elbowed him back.

"It's okay, old man," he said cheerfully. "You're looking pretty spry for a hundred and eighteen."

Aang tilted his head back and laughed. The familiar sound, vibrant and so genuine, warmed Zuko. Aang looked beautiful, happiness lining every feature of his face. He had aged gracefully, retaining the wide eyes but gaining some cheekbone definition and a strong jaw. Although he was no longer a boy, he still possessed the innocent beauty that came hand-in-hand with youth. Enchanted, Zuko wished he could capture him in this moment, the night coloring his eyes dark and the shadows of the flames lighting the balcony flickering across his face.

"Aang," he started, before he knew what he was saying. "I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" Aang said curiously.

Zuko's heart stopped in his chest as the gravity of what he was about to confess suddenly hit him with the force of a rampaging komodo rhino. Was it worth it? What if Aang was repulsed and refused to ever talk to him again? Same-sex relationships were not uncommon in their society, but neither were they celebrated. What if his attraction made Aang uncomfortable? He didn't think he could handle Aang being disgusted by him. The mere thought of it made him queasy, and he was pretty sure his sweating had nothing to do with the unforgiving nature of blazing hot Fire Nation summers.

But no, that wasn't right. Aang was Aang. He had accepted Zuko as his teacher and ally and friend despite his past. He would never throw aside their years of friendship just because of some stupid crush of Zuko's.

Besides, Zuko could only hover in this limbo of uncertainty for so much longer before his obsession drove himself insane.

"I love you so much," he said.

Okay. That was not what he had intended to say. Mortified, he looked away and studied the grooves in the wall to his left. If he squinted and tilted his head slightly, a set of natural grooves appeared to look like a dragon. Zuko shook his head. Now he was really going crazy. He gripped the balustrade tighter in order to stop his hands from trembling.

Aang wasn't making a sound. Zuko was too terrified to look.

But the longer the silence stretched, the more indignant he felt. He had just admitted to something deeply personal and incredibly embarrassing, and Aang wasn't even going to give him the dignity of a polite rejection? What if he had simply left because he couldn't deal with Zuko's foolishness?

Zuko risked a glance.

Aang was staring at him thoughtfully, gnawing on his lower lip in a decidedly enticing way that made Zuko's thick formal robes feel much too warm and constricting.

"Well?" Zuko demanded, even as he cursed himself and his impatience. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Aang kissed him.

His mouth was plush, slightly chapped, and utterly delicious. Zuko could taste mangoes and summer on his breath. Shoving his shock aside, he closed his eyes slowly and gingerly brought his arms up around Aang's waist, slender even under the layers of fabric. The kiss was nothing like he had ever imagined, because even in his wildest fantasies and most realistic dreams he hadn't known that Aang would be this enthusiastic, wasting no time in stepping as close to him as possible and nudging his left thigh between Zuko's legs. Zuko's mouth parted in surprise, and Aang took advantage of the moment to cup Zuko's face and tilt his head in order to deepen the kiss. Someone moaned softly, the sound almost obscenely filled with desire, and it took Zuko a moment to realize that it had been him. But he had no time to be embarrassed, because Aang's hand was stroking the back of his bare neck in the most distracting way.

Gently, Aang pulled away and just looked at him, as if he were a puzzle he was trying to decipher. If Zuko had thought Aang was beautiful before, he had no words to describe how wonderful he looked in this moment.

"Oh," Zuko said awkwardly, dazed. The silence hung between them like a thick blanket of fog. His heart was racing. He was trembling in his shoes. What did this mean? What was he supposed to do now? He knew what he wanted to do, but was this an invitation? How could he get Aang to grab him like that again? Why had Aang moved his leg back?

"Do you really?" Aang asked. There was something akin to wonder in his voice.

"Huh?" Zuko responded intelligently. It was official. Aang had stolen his ability to piece together words coherently.

"What you said," Aang said, cheeks a positively endearing shade of pink. Zuko was overcome with the urge to press kisses into them. "Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it!" Zuko exclaimed. "Why would—"

Aang kissed him again.

Oh. _Oh._

* * *

"Won't they notice that we're gone?" Zuko panted as he fumbled with the knob on the door to the Fire Lord's suite. When he finally wrenched it open, Aang pushed him inside and pressed him against the wall. The door slammed shut with a gust of air.

"No," Aang said as he kissed Zuko's neck. "And if they do, I don't care."

"O-okay," Zuko gasped when nimble hands slipped under the top layer of his robes and began undoing the ties. Aang's fingers felt wonderfully cool against his heated skin.

"Off," Aang muttered, tugging at the fabric. Normally, Zuko would be annoyed at that, but he couldn't bring himself to care about anything but getting the out of their robes as quickly as possible. He undid the sash at his waist and pulled his garb off as quickly as he could. With each article of clothing discarded, he felt more and more nervous. What if Aang didn't find him attractive? His body was littered with scars from years of fighting and training — not to mention the most obvious one in the center of his chest.

But Aang didn't hesitate to run his hands up and down Zuko's sides and across his chest and along his arms and oh spirits, Zuko was going to come in his underwear like a teenager if Aang didn't stop.

"Now you," he said breathlessly but still couldn't help a tiny whine in disappointment when Aang's hands left his skin to tug at his own robes.

The clothes fell to the floor with little care, and Zuko and Aang crashed into each other in the most perfectly chaotic way. Zuko's hand found its way down Aang's chest, sneaking lower to gently cup the bulge in his undergarments. Aang gasped, his hips almost unconsciously pressing into Zuko's palm. Zuko tightened his grip instinctually and then let go to brush his fingers lightly over Aang's erection before reaching beneath the garment.

As Zuko's hand explored beneath the cotton, he nibbled and sucked on Aang's neck and collarbone. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees and hooked his fingers on either side of the one piece of fabric left standing between him and something he had dreamed about for years.

"May I?" he asked shyly.

Aang was barely coherent enough to nod. Zuko decided he liked him that way, so as soon as he discarded the underwear, he quickly grabbed the base of Aang's cock and licked the tip experimentally.

Aang definitely whimpered at the contact. Curious, Zuko looked up and saw him watching him like a hawk. It was such an arousing sight that he blushed. Smirking to hide the fact that he was turned on beyond belief, he covered Aang with his mouth, swallowing him as deeply as he could. He had never done anything like this before, but it was exciting to learn what Aang liked. The hot, wet cavern of his mouth, the gentle sweep of his tongue over his slit, a particular twist of his hand on the base. Zuko soon established a rough rhythm, one that he knew was successful because Aang clearly had to keep stopping himself from thrusting into his mouth.

His hands rested on Zuko's head, firm but not pushing him. Zuko snuck a few peeks upward as he bobbed on Aang's cock, loving witnessing the sight of Aang gasping and flushed and knowing that he had made that happen.

Aang's fingers brushed against the cold metal of the fire crown embedded in his ponytail, and Zuko moaned wantonly as he felt the motion dislodge the accessory slightly. He was on his knees, sucking off the Avatar, wearing the treasured crown of the Fire Lord. It was sinfully dirty and utterly delicious.

Aang must have had the same thought, because he cupped the crown roughly with one of his hands and pushed Zuko down, just a little. Zuko moaned around the cock in his mouth.

"Long live the Avatar," he whispered as he came up for air.

At the words, Aang jerked abruptly and gasped Zuko's name and tried unsuccessfully to push Zuko away. Zuko stubbornly kept his mouth on him and rode the orgasm out with him as he simultaneously trembled and dug his fingers into Zuko's scalp like he owned him.

"Ohspiritsohspiritsohspirits," Aang was saying, his breath coming in unsteady pants. "Zuko, you're amazing."

Zuko ducked his head shyly. It wasn't every day he received compliments — and definitely not on his sexual prowess from the object of his affections.

"It's nothing," he said stupidly, even though that was far from the truth. "I mean, it's. I'm happy to. If you're happy."

Aang smiled down at him, a tender and private smile that Zuko had never seen before.

"Come up here," he said, tugging Zuko up. "I want a kiss."

Aang kissed him languidly, but Zuko accidentally brushed against Aang's leg. Embarrassed, he drew away quickly and tried to distract Aang by sucking on his earlobe, but he was not to be deterred. His fingers shyly pushed back Zuko's underwear and took him in his hand. His grip was warm, and Zuko's eyes fluttered shut as he moved tentatively, accidentally brushing his thumb over the tip.

"Bed," Aang whispered into his neck.

Zuko obeyed.

* * *

Exhausted, they settled on the spacious mattress, and Aang slung his arm over Zuko's hips. His head fit perfectly in the crook of Zuko's neck. Zuko held him closer, tucking his head against Aang's smooth one.

"Aang," Zuko breathed into the veil of darkness. He had to know. "Do you… You know… Feel the same way?"

Aang tensed up instantly. Zuko waited, trying desperately to will away his anxiety. Whether or not he liked the answer, he knew that Aang would give him an honest one. And that was what mattered, right? Zuko had gone into his confession wanting to Aang to know so he could figure out where to go from here. And then this — whatever tonight had been — had happened, and more than anything, Zuko just needed his racing thoughts to be put to rest.

"I've been fighting this for a long time," Aang said. An echo of deep-seated shame haunted his words. Then he whispered, "But I think I do."

Zuko couldn't breathe. A declaration of mutual interest? This was… This was…

After a beat, he blurted out: "Then… Will you be with me?"

Aang shifted in the silent darkness, the rustling of the blankets like a foghorn in the night. When he spoke, it was into Zuko's chest.

"Zuko," Aang said pleadingly. "You know I can't hurt Katara like that."

Like a punch to the gut, Aang's words extinguished Zuko's hope immediately. This whole time, they had successfully avoided mentioning the elephant in the room — the one that came in the form of the pretty, motherly Water Tribe girl who had stolen Aang's heart at the age of twelve. But the truth was unavoidable. Aang was with Katara for a reason. Zuko's fantasies about being the one Aang was truly destined to be with were just that — a fantasy. What had he been expecting, anyway? That after he confessed his feelings, Aang would leave Katara for him? No, he had known that it was entirely improbable, nigh impossible. But Aang's kisses, his enthusiasm, his heated look of lust and something much more, they had distracted him. They had enabled him to make a fool of himself, and now this night would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He blinked back tears at the thought of being shown intimacy this wonderful only to have it snatched away immediately. It seemed too cruel, after all that he had been through, to be taunted with such a beauty and then denied completely.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely, unraveling their tangled limbs and turning onto his side so that Aang couldn't see his crestfallen face.

Aang pressed himself against Zuko's back and said into the nape of his neck, "Zuko, don't be like that."

Zuko closed his eyes miserably. "Don't do this, Aang. Don't make it any harder than it has to be, please."

"I don't want to hurt you," Aang said, reaching for his hand.

"It's too late for that," Zuko snapped, moving to the edge of the bed to get away from the burning touch.

"Zuko, talk to me."

"I told you how I felt," Zuko said, hating the way his voice trembled. "And you told me how you felt. But it appears that we don't want the same things. So please. Let us not speak of it again."

Zuko heard Aang let out a frustrated huff behind him, but he remained silent. He didn't move away, though.

In the darkness, feeling desolate and utterly alone despite lying in bed with the man he loved, Zuko wiped his eyes and drifted off into a nightmare-riddled sleep.


	3. Book One: Interlude

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book One: Interlude  
****By Amphitrite II  
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**Notes: **Many thanks to all of you for taking notice of this fic and for all your kind words, favorites, and follows. One of the greatest joys of writing is sharing the results with everyone and bringing them joy as well. In contrast to all the joy in that sentence, here's an angsty little treat to hold you off until the next installment.

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_**32 years ago, ASC 106**_

Katara was not stupid. So when she wrenched an explanation out of Aang of where he had spent the night on his birthday and found out that he had slept with Zuko, she wasn't so much surprised as panicked.

Neither Zuko nor Aang had ever been shy about their affection toward each other — although to be fair, Aang wasn't shy about his affection toward anyone. Still, she had always been slightly insecure about how enthusiastic Aang was about Zuko: visiting Zuko, repeating things Zuko had said, bringing up Zuko in conversations constantly in the most tangential ways. The bond the boys shared was so strong that there was an almost mystical quality to it, and even without this newfound evidence of their physical attraction, she had always seen Zuko as a rival for Aang's attention. At least this news validated her fears and confirmed that she wasn't just a crazy jealous girlfriend.

But she was a Southern Water Tribe girl at heart; she was a survivor. For whatever reason, fate had placed the Avatar — the sweetest boy she had ever met — in her lap, and she was not going to lose him to anyone, Fire Lord or not_._

Nothing was going to change that, not even Aang's insistence that he didn't deserve her anymore and that he needed time away from her to think.

And when he declared that he had to figure out what he wanted and couldn't do so while being with her, she panicked. Maybe he needed to take a break from her, but she needed him. Even if she clearly wasn't his absolute priority, she couldn't bear the thought of not having him at her side. If she gave him the time to think, then there was the distinct possibility that he would decide to drop her for Zuko.

So she did what she knew she had to. She took his hands in hers, and with her heart thumping loudly in her ears, she asked him to marry her.

Katara was not stupid, and neither was she selfish. Aang was truly better off with her. They were in love, and she was doing the right thing in fighting for their future together. In time, he would be grateful that she had prevented him from making any more impulsive mistakes guided by fleeting and impractical feelings. After all, Zuko could never give him the stable life that she was offering him.

That was what she told herself for years, anyway.


	4. Book One: Chapter 3

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book One: Chapter 3  
****By Amphitrite II**

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_**Present day, ASC 138**_

The entire journey to the Fire Nation, Aang was a mess of tangled nerves. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he knew he had to do something. He couldn't bear living with his traitorous heart anymore.

For so long, he had shouldered the burden of doing right by Katara and their children, squelching his too-frequent compulsions to leave for the Fire Nation in the middle of the night. The worst was knowing that Zuko would accept him with open arms — a prospect that seemed to dull any guilt he felt about the whole affair. But Katara would never have forgiven him for leaving her like that, and after all this time, he couldn't stomach the thought of her having to suffer because of him. Besides, there were the children. The moment he had first laid his eyes on Kya's precious infant smile, he had known instantly that any fantasies about leaving to be with Zuko would never be realized. His children meant the world to him, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving them. (After all, it wasn't until they had all flown the coop that he had even considered seriously bringing up the idea of separation with Katara.) The torture of living with this responsibility while carrying a torch for his old friend was nothing compared to even the worst diplomatic missions, and the pain had hardened the once playful, light-hearted boy into a serious, solemn man.

Aang was well aware that he was far from perfect. Crushing guilt shadowed him in every moment of his existence — in his daily life, when he wrote to Zuko, as he made love to Katara in their humble bed.

And when Tenzin had left for college, Aang had come to terms with the fact that he could no longer suppress his fantasies. Every moment he spent with Katara felt like a betrayal of the worst kind — to both her and to Zuko. So long ago, the monks had taught Aang to live honestly, but for so many years, he had failed to even be honest with himself and in turn hurt the people he loved most in the world.

It was irresponsible and shameful. As the Avatar, he was supposed to serve as a role model for the people of this world, but instead he had lost his way. For too long, he had been held captive by his warring personal desire and sense of honor. And for too long, he had stood at an inescapable impasse with himself.

So here he was, traveling to the Fire Nation, on a quest to reclaim what he had been missing out on all these years.

* * *

Aang surprised Zuko outside of the conference room. When he had arrived at the palace, a guard had informed him that Zuko was in the middle of a meeting with the governor of a Fire Nation province. Too antsy to sit still, Aang spent the hour before Zuko got out pacing the length of the hallway.

"Aang?!" Zuko exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," Aang replied truthfully.

"You should have sent a telegraph. I had no idea! If you had let me know, I would have made preparations, cleared my schedule…"

Zuko's obvious distress made him smile in affection.

"I thought it would be fun to surprise you," he said cheekily. "Don't worry about accommodations; I can sleep anywhere."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Like I would ever be such an ungracious host — especially for my greatest friend. Come, you can put your things away in my chambers while they prepare your room."

Aang followed Zuko to his room and dropped his modest sack in the corner. He glanced at the four-poster bed in the center of the bedroom and barely held back a blush, remembering that magical night so many years ago when Zuko had first vocalized his interest and Aang had practically jumped him in excitement. If everything went according to plan, he would be in that bed with Zuko again soon. The thought made him feel giddy, and he suppressed his grin to avoid looking like a lunatic. If Zuko noticed, he didn't say anything.

They walked out to the gardens, where the turtle ducks still swam in the ponds. Zuko always knew to take him out here the first thing every time he visited. No matter how serious Aang had gotten with age, the turtle ducks always seemed to bring out the kid in him. He could — and had — spend an entire afternoon watching, feeding, and playing with the adorable creatures.

Kneeling down to see the animals better, he noticed a family of them that swam near him, a mother turtle duck and three little turtle ducklings. With a pang, Aang was reminded of Katara, Kya, Bumi, and Tenzin. Already, he missed them. It was silly; they had left for the real world long ago, but it felt different, being the one to leave.

As if on cue, Zuko asked, "Aang, why are you here? Don't misunderstand; I couldn't be happier to see you. But is something wrong? You never visit without notifying me well in advance."

Aang sat back on his haunches and stared at the lily pads floating almost stoically on the smooth surface of the water. He envied their solemn beauty and strength, qualities he associated with both Katara and Zuko. His first love and his last. And he had spent so much of his life hurting them both.

"I left Katara," he said quietly.

Zuko didn't say anything. The silence stretched on endlessly, painfully. Minutes, centuries, passed before Zuko replied. Aang was so nervous that he couldn't tell. The humid Fire Nation autumn air hung heavily between them, and Aang wished for a breeze to sweep away the tension.

"What?" Zuko whispered. His voice was hoarse, quivering. "Aang… Why? Why would you do that?"

Aang stared at the family of turtle ducks, the now-familiar feelings of guilt and dread tangling and tearing at his insides. He felt guilty for leaving his family, but he felt even guiltier for not doing this sooner. And that only made him worse about leaving his family.

"I want to be with you," he said. "I have wanted to be with you for a very long time."

"That's not what you've said in the past," Zuko bit out. Aang glanced up, surprised at the venom in his words. He got to his feet so he could look Zuko in the eyes. He was scowling deeply, and his hands were clenched into fists. They were trembling. This was not the reaction Aang had expected.

"I was stupid. And I had to do my duty…"

"I know, Aang," Zuko said."I know. Trust me, for the last forty years, I've woken up every morning reminding myself of the same thing. That you had to be a husband, a father. That it was your duty, and that it would be dishonorable to take that away from you. That I had to put my feelings away so I could do _my_ duty."

"But you don't have to anymore," Aang said, taking Zuko's hands in his. He hated hearing about how he had hurt Zuko. In his heart, he knew, and he thought about it all the time, but it was different hearing it from Zuko himself. It stung so much more. "I'm here now."

Zuko yanked his hands away, glaring at Aang with unmasked fury and pain in his eyes. "You're here now?" he repeated incredulously, the words coming out accusatory and anguished at the same time. "Where were you before? Where were you when I couldn't sleep due to stress from the Harmony Restoration Movement? Where were you when I broke down in the lavatory after your wedding? Where were you when I wanted to crush Kya with my bare hands upon seeing the evidence of you and Katara's love? Where were you when the man I love told me he loved me enough to sleep with me but not enough to be with me? Where have you been when I've woken up from nightmares and have to fight off my demons alone? Where have you been every time the loneliness of this life threatens to crush me?"

"I'm sorry," Aang said earnestly, struggling to fight off the horrible hollow feeling that Zuko's words induced within him. "You don't know how sorry I am for all that I have put you through."

Zuko laughed hollowly, looking away and fiddling with his sash absently. "Sorry," he said disdainfully. "I know you're sorry, Aang. I've never doubted that. But you don't understand. I forgive you for choosing Katara. Spirits know that given the option, I would choose her over a mess like me. But what I can't forgive you for is giving me hope for so many years only to crush me again and again. And then when I've finally given up on this, to bring it up once more."

"I thought you would be happy," Aang said, at a loss for words. He was not used to Zuko's infamously quick temper being directed at him. Not since the days before they had been friends.

Zuko seemed to falter at that. The fire in his eyes died a little, and his scowl turned into a wry grimace. "I don't know how to feel, Aang," he said honestly. "I have pined after you for so long that I cannot even process the thought of all those fantasies becoming a reality. It has been so long since I even considered the possibility."

"But —" Aang protested. Zuko shook his head.

"You can't just…march into my home and expect me to be here, still waiting for you after all these years."

The feeling in his stomach had definitely turned into a sinking one. What was Zuko saying? Before, when Aang had rejected him for the second time, he had said…

"You said your flame for me would never die."

"And that's the truth," Zuko said. "But loving someone is very different from being with someone. Then again, maybe you don't know that, since you and Katara have always been such a perfect couple."

"We have not," Aang said hotly, weary of the jabs at his marriage. He and Katara had shared some wonderful times and were good together, but it had hardly been perfect. "How the hell could we be perfect when I could never get away from my feelings for you?"

Zuko snorted. "You've always looked plenty happy to me," he said bitterly.

Aang resisted the urge to stamp his foot in frustration. "You're being difficult for no reason, Zuko! I just left my wife and children for you! The least you could do is show a little sympathy and give us a chance!"

"It's always about you, isn't it," Zuko snarled. "You act like you've done me a favor. But I've worked so hard to keep my feelings at bay, to put them away, to master them. And here you come, disrupting everything. I didn't ask you to leave them! Not this time. You should've stayed, Aang."

His words were like a dagger to Aang's ribs, and Aang found himself struggling to breathe, much less provide an adequate response.

"Zuko, please," he said. "What are you saying? Can't we try? I want to be with you. I'm determined to be with you. Give me a chance. If it doesn't work, I'll… I'll understand, but —"

"I can't!" Zuko bellowed. "You're thirty years too late, Aang!"

"I don't understand," Aang said sadly. "Zuko, at least… At least give me a reason. Give me one real reason we shouldn't try."

"Don't you know?" Zuko hissed, and the emotions swirling in his eyes were too complex to name and made Aang feel sick to his stomach. "When I look at you, everything hurts."

He turned away, and Aang saw that his shoulders were shaking. He reached out a hand to squeeze his arm gently and was relieved when Zuko didn't brush him off.

"Zuko, you deserve to happy," he said. "After all this time, you're still torturing yourself and trying to prove your strength and independence. But love isn't a weakness. And yearning to be loved isn't, either. Here I am, promising to love you. Telling you that I have loved you for so long. Please stop running from the good things in your life."

"I need to be alone," Zuko said bleakly after a moment, twisting away from Aang's grasp. "Someone from my staff will escort you to your room, and I'll have dinner brought to you."

Then he was strolling toward the palace, and as much as he hated feeling so helpless, Aang couldn't tear his eyes away.

* * *

_Dearest Katara,_

_I arrived at the Fire Nation safely earlier today. My trip was uneventful, but you know how I enjoy the train rides. The technology still astounds me. Remember the days when we thought traveling on Appa was so advanced? They were good days, though._

_It's difficult for me to admit that things are not proceeding according to plan. Zuko and I got into a bad fight soon after our reunion. I don't know why he forces himself to suffer so. Sometimes, I feel like a part of him is still trying to pay penance for the perceived mistakes he made so long ago. I wish he would put his past behind him. Doesn't he realize that he saved the Fire Nation and that despite the rough patches in the beginning, so many people see him as a war hero?_

_He's more difficult than a teenager sometimes. And after raising three — including Kya! — that's saying a lot. To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing, but I know I have to do something. This can't all just be for nothing. You know that I won't give up without a fight._

_I love you and miss you. Write soon._

_Best,_

_Aang_

* * *

"Zuko, you can't avoid me forever," Aang proclaimed loudly, leaning against the wall outside of the Fire Lord's quarters. When there was no response, just like there had been no response to his persistent knocks, he added, "Stop ignoring me. I know you're in there."

Silence.

"Zuko!"

Silence.

With a sigh, Aang gave up on maintaining a sense of decorum and began banging on the door.

"Leave me alone!" Zuko finally shouted.

"Nope. Zuko-o-o," Aang said in a sing-song voice. "Come out!"

"I won't!"

"Well, then you won't mind if I just stand outside your door waiting. You certainly can't stay in there forever."

"Watch me!"

Aang rolled his eyes at Zuko's childish tone. He was really too old to deal with this nonsense.

"Okay, okay," he said, trying to sound unthreatening as he sank to the floor and sat against the wall. "Don't mind me; I'm just going to make myself comfortable out here."

There was a silence, and then a lot of shuffling and incoherent grumbling. The door opened a crack and then fully. Before him stood Fire Lord Zuko, looking neither regal nor powerful. In fact, he reminded Aang of Bumi after a night out on the town, acting as if his father had no idea what desperately, painfully hungover looked like.

"Get off the ground," Zuko muttered. "You're embarrassing me."

Aang raised a skeptical eyebrow. "There's nobody else around."

Zuko sighed and stuck his hand in Aang's face. Aang stared at the proffered fingers and then looked up at Zuko.

"Does this mean you'll talk to me now? It's been two days," he whined.

Zuko's expression faltered for a second before he threw his masks up again. "Aang, you have to give me time to think, okay?"

Aang took the hand in his and used it as leverage to pull himself up. Zuko's skin felt like electricity against his.

"Okay," he said. "I'll leave you alone on one condition."

Zuko looked wary. "And what's that?"

"You have to promise that you _will_ talk to me eventually."

Grimacing, Zuko looked away. "I don't want to make promises that I'm not sure I can keep."

"Zuko," Aang said sharply.

Frustrated, Zuko threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, fine, we'll talk. Whatever. Just get out of here. Please."

"Okay," Aang relented. "But don't forget: you promised."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

But Aang knew he could trust Zuko's word. If there was one thing that Zuko didn't do, it was break promises. And with that chance at making another bid for the one person for whom he would risk it all, Aang's heart sang. Unbearably obstinate at times, Zuko would have stubbornly rejected Aang's overtures if that were what he believed was right. The fact that he had given in so easily to another discussion could only be a good sign for their future together.

Smiling, Aang said confidently, "I'll see you at dinner," and walked down the corridor humming under his breath and completely unaware of the way that Zuko's gaze lingered on him until he disappeared around a corner, and then for a moment longer.

* * *

_Dear Tenzin,_

_I hope your studies are going well and that autumn in Republic City is less suffocating than it is here in the Fire Nation capital. I know you love your books and that school is keeping you busy, but don't forget to do your airbending exercises and to meditate every day. You should convince that feisty girlfriend of yours to join you sometime. She could benefit from a lifetime of meditation — or maybe just relaxing. Then again, seeing so much of Toph in her always makes me smile. It seems that we are genetically predisposed to fall for passionate, spirited souls with volatile tempers. Spirits help us both._

_I love you and miss you dearly. Uncle Zuko sends his regards. Please tell Lin I say hello. _

_Love,_

_Father_


	5. Book One: Chapter 4

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book One: Chapter 4  
****By Amphitrite II**

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_**22 years ago, ASC 116**_

Dinner at the Fire Nation Palace was never anything short of a feast. Aang devoured his vegetable stew, salad, and plain noodles with delight, barely pausing to thank Zuko between shoveling food into his mouth, chewing, and swallowing.

Zuko watched on in amusement as he demolished plate after plate, though his smile did not reach his eyes. Aang's visit to the Fire Nation this time around had been for neither a joyous occasion nor a much-needed respite. He was here to pay respects to the recently deceased Iroh, who had died peacefully in his bed with a proverb about life and death on his lips.

Sokka and Toph were scheduled to arrive early tomorrow. Katara had fallen ill a few days before she and Aang were to leave, and he had almost canceled the trip before she had demanded that he go without her.

"I'll be fine with some rest, Aang. You know how stressful it's been lately with the Northern Water Tribe's nonsense. Iroh was a good man and a good friend. He deserves our respects. You'll say something nice for me, won't you?"

After some pushing, Aang had conceded, leaving the United Republic for the Fire Nation capital. Although he hated leaving Katara behind when she wasn't feeling well, he had to admit that he was looking forward to getting away for a little bit. Even if it was for a grim occasion. Geopolitical politics had taken a turn for the worse over the past year, and he was tired of everyone looking to him for answers when it came to even the pettiest disputes. He was the Avatar, not a miracle worker.

But spending time with his best friend always lifted his spirits. Already, he felt much better, shifting his focus from his exhaustion and bone-deep weariness to the task of comforting his forlorn friend. Zuko was struggling to bury his grief and failing desperately at it. Aang read every forced neutral expression and too-polite utterance as clearly as he would have if Zuko's face had been streaming with tears.

After dinner — during which Zuko had barely even touched his plate — Zuko excused himself quickly and quietly. Aang watched him leave, sympathy clogging up his throat. When he had visited in the past, Zuko had been so eager to spend time with him that they had hardly ever left each other's sides. That he was seeking solitude now was worrying. But Aang respected his unspoken wish to be alone and retreated to his chambers.

* * *

After an hour of alternating between pacing, composing a letter to Katara, and trying to read the book he had brought along, Aang decided that Zuko had had enough time alone and that it was time to see if he could do anything at all to ease his pain.

"Hey," Aang said. "How are you feeling?"

Zuko was quiet. The courtyard was cold, and Aang wished he had thought to bring his coat. He sat down beside his friend on the ornate stone bench, tucking his freezing fingers into the space between his thighs. Solemn and still, Zuko continued staring into the distance, seemingly unfazed by the stinging winter air. His eyes flickered over to Aang briefly as the younger man shifted closer, shivering slightly. Zuko made an aborted gesture, as if he had been about to wrap an arm around Aang but decided against it.

"Empty," he said. "Cold."

Aang knew that he wasn't talking about the weather.

"I'm here," he said.

"Yes," Zuko said after a moment. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Warmth bloomed in Aang's chest at the words, but his smile faded when he saw how serious Zuko looked. The sight of tears hovering stubbornly in the Fire Nation Lord's eyes, already red and puffy from days of clandestine breakdowns, made Aang wince in sympathy.

"You," Zuko said thickly, seeming to choke on his own words. "You and Uncle, you have always kept me going. Made me better. Taught me so much. Believed in me. I… After my mother left, before I met you — really met you, I mean — he was all that I had. I don't know how to feel whole without him."

A tear slipped down his high cheekbones, but Zuko didn't even seem to register it. Before he knew what he was doing, Aang was reaching over with his fingers to catch it before it slipped off Zuko's chin. Almost instinctively, Zuko reached up to touch Aang's hand and press it to his cheek. He still didn't look at Aang.

Guiltily, Aang's heart skipped a beat at the radiant warmth of Zuko, both under and over his cold fingers. He was so distracted by the sensation that he almost missed Zuko's quiet words.

"Aang," he said, trepidation written all over his downturned face. The dim light of the lanterns made his amber eyes glow like molten gold, and Aang could see his thick eyelashes from his vantage point. Even after years of stress and fatigue as the monarch of a war-sundered nation, his friend was so handsome. Azula had been physically attractive objectively (though Aang had not seen her since she had been taken to a sanitarium many years ago), but her beauty was that of a katana — fatal, and remorselessly so. Zuko was full of unwavering grace, with the dignified elegance of the flames that his firebending produced — passion and danger simmering beneath the surface but so masterfully controlled. Lost in tracing Zuko's familiar features and noting the mild creases at the corners of his eyes that he hadn't noticed before, Aang almost missed his next words: "Do you ever think of me?"

Aang blinked, confusion creasing his own features. "What do you mean? You're my best friend; of course I think about you."

"No, I mean…" Zuko said, clearly fumbling for words. "I mean, do you ever still think of me in _that way_?" At Aang's surprised expression, his eyes skittered away, and he dropped the hand that had captured his cross his arms, almost as if he were struggling to hold himself in. "You don't have to answer that. Never mind. It was foolish of me to bring it up."

"I, uh," Aang said awkwardly. He had not expected this topic to be breached ever again — not since he had rejected Zuko and somehow ended up in a whirlwind engagement with Katara. Regret was both too strong and too mild of a word to describe how he felt about those undeniably intertwined events. "Zuko, you, uh. After all this time, you still want me?"

Zuko laughed humorlessly. "You're a fool if you think it's that easy to get over you, Avatar."

"Don't call me that," Aang snapped automatically. He hated when Zuko used his title instead of his name; it always sounded too much like mockery coming from his mouth. It harkened back to a time when friendship had not even been an option, much less the co-dependent, indestructibly fierce bond they had forged in the time since.

Zuko remained silent. Petulant. Fidgeting. Aang sighed. He supposed it was a fair question, though he loathed being reminded of the hurt he had caused his dearest friend so many years ago. Spirits, they had been so young and foolish. Aang stood by his decision to do right by Katara, but he wished it hadn't come at the cost of Zuko's pain. He saw now that it had been wrong to take advantage of Zuko that night, but he hadn't been able to resist the greatest man he knew. There had always been an electrifying undercurrent of attraction between the two of them — still was, if he was being completely honest with himself — and back then, he had only begun to understand it. His eighteenth birthday, the balcony lights illuminating Zuko's features in the most perfect way, it had felt like the right moment to leap without looking. Katara hadn't even graced his mind. He hadn't considered the consequences; the only thing that had mattered was Zuko's fragile confession and how it had set Aang alight, mind, body, and soul. And then he hadn't been in the right mind to think about anything but how beautiful Zuko looked as he writhed on those fancy silk sheets due to pleasure Aang was giving him. Each kiss they had shared had felt like a promise.

But in the afterglow, reality had sunken in, and Aang had known that he had to do the responsible thing. Though rejecting Zuko hadn't even been the most difficult part. The worst part had been seeing Zuko's face fall, as if everything he had ever wanted in life had been robbed from him. He had only glimpsed it for half a second before it was tucked primly behind a mask, but at the sight of that misery — the hopeless misery of dreams being extinguished — Aang had almost taken back his words. Except that would have been wrong as well, and the devastated expression would have resurfaced on Katara's face instead.

In the war, Aang had been certain that he was in the right; he had known that no matter what he did, he would never sink to the depths of depravity that the Fire Nation practiced. He had recognized right from wrong as surely as he knew hot from cold. But having to choose between the two people he loved most in the world — and who loved him back just as fiercely — had been a moral dilemma he still pondered and doubted, though it shamed him something awful to admit it.

He loved Katara so much, and he was so proud to be her husband. Sharing his life with her provided him with boundless joy. She was caring, compassionate, and so resilient. She was so good for him, tempering him, serving as a voice of wisdom in the back of his mind, even when she wasn't physically present.

But he would be lying if he said he didn't wonder at times what his life would be like if he hadn't turned Zuko down. If, that night, after Zuko's hopeful inquiry, he had kissed him and held him as they drifted off to sleep, if he hadn't woken up to an empty bed, if he had gone to tell Katara that he would be staying in the Fire Nation palace from then on.

"I think of you all the time," Aang said finally, unwilling to disguise the resignation in his voice. "It is not something I'm proud of."

Quickly, Zuko tried to disguise his crestfallen expression quickly under a pitifully thin veneer of apathy. "Then there is no hope for us," he said.

Aang's heart sank. Did he have to go through this again? Say no to something he truly wanted? Hurt his best friend for the sake of loyalty? Not for the first time, he wished things were different. The violence of war he could handle. The impossibility of diplomacy he could handle. The politics of city-building he could handle. But he could not cope with loving two people so much and having to choose one over the other — at the cost of the other.

"Zuko," Aang said gently. There never was."

Silence reigned in the small space between the two war heroes as something died in Zuko's eyes. Though Aang could not identify the emotion, he was sorry to see it go.

"Tell me, Aang," Zuko spoke, so quietly that Aang had to lean closer to hear him properly. "If I had gotten to you first… If I had romanced you before Katara had… Would I have won?"

Aang closed his eyes, every muscle in his body heavy with uncertainty, guilt, and regret. He didn't want to answer the question. He refused to speak anything but the truth to Zuko, especially in matters of the heart, but he did not want to contemplate what Zuko was suggesting. But he could not simply tell Zuko what he wanted to hear. "It's not a competition. I'm not a thing to be won."

"You're the only thing worth having in this damn world," Zuko burst out. Aang glanced up in surprise, meeting Zuko's furious eyes. The anger filling them wasn't aimed at Aang, though; it was directed inward. Aang tilted his head, and Zuko seemed to shrink into himself. "Answer my question," he whispered. "Please. I need to know. I need closure."

"I don't have an answer for you," Aang said honestly. "Believe me, I wish I did. But I won't lie to you to make you feel better."

Zuko cursed, a string of expletives that sounded unnatural coming from his proper mouth, the royal accent making the words seem filthier than they really were. "You're so good it hurts, Aang. You're so good."

Aang looked down at his lap and closed his eyes briefly. These were not words he wished to hear. He knew that he was not a bad person, but he did not deserve that kind of praise — especially not from somebody who knew his flaws so well (and had known them even before he had learned of his more commendable traits, really).

"If I were really good, you would never hurt because of me."

Though their arms pressed tightly against each other, the space between them felt like the endless, yawning chasm between two towering cliffs.

Aang felt like he was falling, directionless. Nothing he said or did was right. It stung bitterly. The Avatar was supposed to be a moral guide for the world's citizens, but he could not even figure out what was right for himself. Not for the first time when it came to Zuko, he felt intolerably lost.

"I need you like fire needs oxygen to survive," Zuko was whispering, his voice cracking. Aang could feel him trembling against him. "It's not… It's not healthy. I don't want to push you away. I can't bear to lose you too. It would break me."

"You won't lose me," Aang said fiercely, because it might be the only thing he could give Zuko with absolute certainty. "Ever. Zuko, you won't. I swear."

"Yeah," Zuko said, and Aang couldn't tell if he believed him or not. Head bowed, Zuko continued, "My flame for you will never die. But it is time I stopped feeding it."

Aang nodded in acceptance, though the words left him feeling oddly bereft.

"One last kiss?" he said in a weak attempt at a joke. It came out decidedly less lighthearted than he had intended and much more like a plea.

Zuko looked at him, sadly contemplative. His eyes were so gold and a well of emotions so complex and labyrinthine that Aang couldn't even begin to untangle them. He could spend a lifetime trying. No. He wished that he could. A lifetime with Zuko…

"Yes, I think that would be fitting," Zuko said finally, as if he needed to justify it to himself.

Their lips met, and though it was not an Earth-shattering kiss in and of itself, it crumbled Aang's resolve and rocked the foundations on which he had built his life. It had been ten years since he had last been intimate with Zuko like this, but something about it felt unerringly familiar. Zuko was hot and tender and possessive and terrified all at the same time. But more than anything, the kiss rang of desperation. With his lips and his tongue, Zuko pressed hope and despair into Aang's very being, the line between the two blurring until it was nearly indistinguishable. The corners of Aang's closed eyes felt wet, but he wasn't sure whether the tears were ones of joy or despair.

Zuko cradled either side of his face with unbridled reverence, so warm and so giving, blinding Aang to anything other than this moment.

_This is what you could've had,_ his mind chanted relentlessly. _This is could have been yours._ And then, _You fool._ _And, You will never get enough of him._

_Never._

Surfacing, Aang gasped. His heart was racing so fast he thought it might leap out of his chest altogether and land in Zuko's. _Wrapped around his, where it belongs_, his traitorous mind whispered.

Zuko followed Aang's retreating face automatically before catching himself and standing up abruptly, putting a proper amount of space between them. Immediately, Aang mourned his warmth and his proximity. He repressed the urge to stand up and pull him into an embrace. He knew it would be accepted too easily, and then who knew what would come of it. He would not do that again, not to either of them.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the…"

Aang's gut wrenched at the way Zuko choked on his words. He had come here hoping to help Zuko with his burdens but had inadvertently added to his pain.

"If you need anything," he said, and found that he too was having trouble finding his words. But he wanted Zuko to know that he was here for him. He needed him to know. "Please."

Zuko understood. Zuko always understood him, at his best and at his worst. He nodded once, and turned, his hands clasped stiffly behind his back.

"Thank you, Aang," he said so quietly that Aang almost didn't catch it.

"No," Aang said, but his tongue felt numb and useless in his mouth_. No what? No, don't thank me for hurting you. No, don't thank me for adding to your troubles. No, don't thank me for breaking your heart. No, don't thank me for being your friend. No, don't thank me for only being able to be your friend._ "Just," he said stupidly. "Please. I'm here. Always."

"I know," Zuko said.

Aang watched him go and felt like he was once again trapped in the ice — freezing, immobile, and completely helpless.

* * *

When Aang returned home, Katara seemed to have made a quick recovery, her pallor no longer frighteningly ashy. She was still tired and had been instructed not to exert too much energy, though, so Aang spent his first day back at her bedside, reading her favorite novel aloud and trying to feed her soup. She kept swatting his hand away and insisted that she was perfectly capable of feeding herself.

She fell asleep after lunch, in the middle of chiding him about cleaning up the dishes. Aang spent the next hour and a half absentmindedly tidying up the house and struggling to get things sorted out in his head.

After Katara awoke, they had afternoon tea and Aang told her about the funeral. Over a steaming cup of jasmine tea, he told her that Zuko had decided to give up on pursuing him romantically. _So you don't need to worry anymore_, was unspoken.

"Well," she said, and Aang could hear the relief in her voice as clear as day. "Good."

Aang nodded, not knowing what else to say. He didn't know if he should tell her about the kiss. It seemed cruel to upset her when she was ill and bedridden, but he hated keeping secrets from her. That he even still had feelings for Zuko felt enough like betrayal each and every day.

But Katara had always been so shrewd. Eyes narrowed, she said, almost hesitantly, "What aren't you telling me?"

He couldn't lie now. He had to tell her.

"We kissed," Aang whispered, staring at his half-finished teacup.

He was not ready for Katara's reaction: With a shriek, she threw her finished cup at the wall and began sobbing into her hands.

Alarmed, Aang put his own cup aside and reached over to hold her.

"You can't do this, Aang," Katara choked. Her entire body was trembling in his arms, and she seemed unable to decide whether to wrench away from him or press further into the embrace. "Not anymore. You can't just go around doing things like this. You're with me. If you don't want to be with me, _tell me_, and of course I'll fight you, but I'll let you go if that's what you really want. But you have to talk to me. You're married; you can't just go around…kissing other people. It's dirty, it's underhanded, and it hurts so much that our vows mean so little to you. If you want him, _go. _Don't do this to me. I can't take it anymore; I have so many other things to consider. Things are different now. I can't do this alone, but I would rather raise a child alone than raise one in a broken family."

Aang froze. "What? Wait, what?"

Katara lifted her head, eyes stony with resolute defiance as she looked him right in the eye.

"Aang, I'm pregnant," she whispered.

"Oh," was all Aang could say.

He had no idea how to voice any of the myriad feelings that had suddenly assaulted him. Shock, wonder, fear, excitement, worry, joy, and sorrow warred within him.

"Oh. I. Oh, Katara, I—"

And with a sinking heart, he thought of Zuko and the question he had posed about winning, if things had happened differently, earlier on in their lives. The thought of relationships being compared in such stark terms had repulsed him at the time, but perhaps he had jumped to conclusions. Because if love and devotion was a competition, Aang knew for certain that with Katara's announcement, Zuko had just lost.


	6. Book One: Chapter 5

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book One: Chapter 5  
****By Amphitrite II**

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_So when your hope's on fire  
__But you know your desire  
__Don't hold a glass over the flame  
__Don't let your heart grow cold  
__I will call you by name  
__I will share your road_

—"Hopeless Wanderer," Mumford & Sons

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_**Present day, ASC 138**_

A week passed before Zuko felt prepared to face Aang. For seven days, he had vacillated between holding onto his pride and letting go of any concerns just to be with Aang at last. Every time he made a choice, he questioned his own wisdom and retreated reluctantly back into the depths of indecision.

He wanted Aang, just as desperately as he had wanted him as a teenager, and then as a young man — there was no question about that. As the years dragged on, Zuko had felt age and fatigue take a toll on him, both inside and out. He hated spotting new wrinkles on his face or silver poking out from beneath his jet-black hair, although he always tried to find solace in the myriad pearls of wisdom Iroh had divulged regarding old age. Vanity was only partly to blame for his melancholy, though. What really tore at him was the thought that his life was already halfway over, and yet all he saw when he looked into the mirror was a man who had achieved so much but gained so little. He still felt as alone as he had felt as a child after his mother left. There were temporary asylums from loneliness, but he could not shake the feeling that as he grew older, miserable solitude would eat away at him until he was nothing but a ghost, shackled to one place but invisible to those around him. Aang had come to embody a savior of sorts when it came to this anguish. Aang made him feel alive, made him feel like a part of something, made him forget about ever feeling alone in the first place. He had always possessed that exceptional power.

And age had been kind to Aang, sharpening his features and leaving him looking more dignified and wise than ever. He was so beautiful. He would always be so beautiful to Zuko, even when he was speaking of impossible things like being together after all the hurt that had festered between them for too long. Even when he was poisoning Zuko with a hope so strong he had to struggle mind and body not to succumb to it.

But like Aang, it was irresistible, and after six sleepless nights, Zuko lost the will to fight a battle he did not wish to win. Was not his love worth more than his pride? Despite everything, Aang had ended up here. He had taken a chance, a leap of faith, and put himself within Zuko's reach.

It was not the way Zuko would have wished it. He loathed coming in second, just as he had in the eyes of his father. The fact that Aang had not left until now didn't sit right with him. If he assented to this, then Aang would have gotten everything: time with Katara, time with his children, and now time with Zuko. It was unfair, when Zuko had spent so many years alone and wondering if solitude was to be his permanent companion, the only one he could count on residing at his side. It was unfair for Zuko to be settling for some diminished version of the romance he had, in his younger years, dreamed about between him and Aang. The harshness of this reality would cheapen that which once could have been the most magnificent conjugation of two souls. And still, Aang would be getting everything.

But that was no way to think, Zuko chided himself. He wanted Aang to have everything. No matter the circumstances, he wanted Aang to be happy. He only wished desperately that he himself was a part of what was necessary to make that happen.

But here Aang was handing him exactly that. A chance to be happy, and to make Aang happy in return.

What could be better than that?

Dreams were dreams, and they were better left behind. What he had in his grasp was something real. And there was the raw truth: an Aang, warm and kind and _real_ in his arms, would always be superior to any Aang he could conjure up in his dreams.

It was not the perfect situation. It was not the ideal situation. But it was Aang, and when Zuko thought back to that young man who had yielded his heart and body up so earnestly, believing that love was so simple — he knew that if anything, he owed it to that younger version of himself to at least try. That Zuko would have done anything, would have moved mountains and razed the land, just to be with Aang. The years and multiple rejections had brewed bitter cynicism within him and whittled away at his optimism, but somewhere in him was that young man, so hopelessly and unconditionally in love that he could never see Aang in an unpleasant light — much less blame him for the years he had spent growing older and even more alone.

It was that young man who spurred Zuko to finally call for Aang to meet him, before he lost his courage and resolve. After he sent the pageboy to pass along the message, he paced his room aimlessly. He smoothed back his hair in the mirror and tidied the sitting area, with its plush chairs and cozy table. He opened a bottle of rice wine, pouring himself a portion in a desperate attempt to quell his anxiety. It was yet too early in the season to require the warmth of the fire, but watching the flames flicker soothed his nerves.

There was a knock at the door, and Zuko took a deep breath before answering it.

_This is everything you have ever wanted._

Aang himself looked uncharacteristically apprehensive. His hands were folded behind his back, and he stood ramrod straight. His eyes were clouded with worry and beneath that, something akin to hope. Zuko inhaled deeply again and steeled himself.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey, Zuko," Aang said, blinking fast. He was biting his lip, a nervous tic he had adopted over the years, dealing with tough negotiations and stubborn politicians. "May I come in?"

Zuko nodded quickly and led Aang to the table, where they had shared countless nights of deep discussion as well as laughter.

"Wine?" he offered. Aang glanced at the small empty glass and shrugged.

"Why not?"

Zuko's hand trembled as he poured the glass. He wondered if Aang saw through his weak attempt at symbolism: Diplomats often traded wine before settling into a difficult conversation.

"Thank you," Aang said gently, settling into the chair he customarily occupied. He did not speak further, only taking sips from the small glass and staring thoughtfully at Zuko in the dim light.

Zuko, too, took a seat, but his eyes were drawn to the fire behind Aang. It crackled in the silence, and its flames leapt without shame, majestic and alluring.

"I've been a fool, Aang," Zuko said quietly. His eyes flickered to Aang briefly before shying away from his curious gaze. "Who am I to deprive us of something we both desire so deeply? What do we have to gain from the withholding of my affections?"

"Don't do it for me," Aang said, still in that delicate tone. As if he were scared of upsetting Zuko. "It doesn't mean anything if you concede for my sake, Zuko. I want... I _need_ you to want it for yourself. Now is the time to be selfish. After all the hurt and pain that I have wrought upon you so unfairly, with so little consideration… You deserve to be selfish."

Beloved Aang. Zuko loved him so much, him and everything he was.

_With Aang, you will never be alone again,_ his mind whispered.

"I want it more than anything in the world," he said honestly, meeting Aang's gaze directly. The intensity of his eyes, full of unmasked ardor and desire, sent blood flowing to Zuko's cheeks. He felt naked under that gaze, as if Aang could see through his clothes and his skin and his bones, stripping him down to the bare basics of what made him — down to everything that had shaped him into who he was today, everything in his life that had led to this very moment.

"Yes," Aang said simply, reaching for his hand across the table. "I do, too."

Zuko turned his hand and interlaced their fingers, instantly feeling more grounded. Aang was here, and he wanted to be here, with Zuko. He was offering himself up, and the young man from all those decades ago was doing cartwheels in Zuko's chest, blissfully happy. But the Zuko of now did not have the means to give in so easily. Traitorously, part of him pointed out that his hurt had not vanished or been miraculously healed by this concession. It still stung to look at Aang and see the man who had caused him so much pain over the years — the man who he had been unable to give up even after all this time.

"Let the past be," Aang soothed, reading his mind as usual. "We are here together now. Let us bask in the moment — and all the ones that will follow."

Zuko nodded unsteadily. Keeping his hand clasped in Aang's, he stood up and pulled his friend to his feet. Throwing caution to the wind, he grabbed Aang in an abrupt embrace, holding him so tightly that he thought he could feel the other man's bones. Aang was solid and warm. And real. And his to have.

At last.

Tentatively, Zuko closed the remaining space between them, drawing Aang into a gentle, almost chaste kiss. Aang melted against him, bringing his hand up to cradle Zuko's jaw and letting his fingers slip into Zuko's meticulously bound hair. Zuko sighed happily against Aang's lips, the motion allowing Aang's tongue to slip into his mouth, hot and earnest, just like he remembered from the faded memories he had clung onto so helplessly.

_No more of that._

"I'm here," Aang whispered, and Zuko kissed him again, and again. He tried to lead them to the bedroom without losing any contact. They bumped noses, and Aang snickered when Zuko tried unsuccessfully to glare at him as if it were his fault. To shut him up, Zuko nudged him onto the bed and pinned him down to the mattress. Aang stopped laughing immediately, his eyes full of wonder as he reached up to yank Zuko down for another kiss.

"What changed your mind?" Aang asked, breathing heavily.

Zuko frowned at the resurrection of that line of conversation, not wanting to let himself fall prey to doubt again. But Aang was gazing at him so openly, and he deserved an explanation. He was giving himself to Zuko; the least Zuko could do was pay him back with honesty.

"Life is too brief to be finicky about situations," he said, rolling off Aang to lie beside him, facing him. "While it is true that I would be happier if you had chosen me over Katara all those years ago, it doesn't mean that I would not be happy with you now." He took Aang's hand and entwined their fingers once again, holding it to his chest. And he spoke the simplest truth of them all, the one that haunted him since he was only a boy: "You are everything."

Aang held him close and kissed him again. Zuko broke it off to nibble along his jawline and lap at the tender skin of his neck, breathing in the sweet woodiness of oolong and tasting the salty tang of sweat on him. Aang sighed happily at his ministrations, and Zuko took his time savoring the moment, committing every second to memory. Finding a particularly sensitive spot, he grazed his teeth against the soft flesh and elicited a soft moan from Aang that went straight to Zuko's groin.

As he kissed Aang's collarbone, his hands shifted downward, running along folds of the orange robes and searching for their catches and ties. Aang removed his hands briefly from where they were running up and down Zuko's back to help discard the thick fabric. The cloak came off, and then the long tunic, and then the slippers. Zuko's hands skimmed along Aang's chest and smiled when Aang's stomach jumped beneath his fingers.

"You too," Aang said, but got distracted kissing Zuko again. After a moment, his hands remembered their task, and he grasped for the sash holding the robes together. He pushed the fabric off Zuko's shoulders and helped lift the shoulder piece over his head. Before long, they were facing each other bare-chested and smiling shyly. Encouraged by the hunger in Aang's eyes, Zuko straddled him, and they gasped simultaneously as they brushed against each other through the fabric of their breeches. Aang arched upward wantonly. Surprised, Zuko let slip a moan at the exquisite sensation. His hips ground down against Aang of their own accord. Not that he was complaining.

Aang reached up and undid the ribbon tying his hair back. Waves of black hair cascaded down his shoulders.

"Beautiful," Aang breathed. Zuko flushed, ducking down to press kisses along Aang's collarbone in an effort to hide his embarrassment. Aang stroked his hair and tugged it gently to get Zuko to look at him. "The rest of it, off."

"Yes, sir," Zuko teased, reaching for his ties. His fingers fumbled uselessly for a few seconds before he was able to undo the knots. He was nervous; Aang had seen him naked before, but that had been thirty years ago. He had been at the peak of his health back then, and now he was nothing but an old man. What if Aang didn't like what he saw? What if he changed his mind once he realized what he was getting into?

Zuko's long pause didn't go unnoticed by Aang, who nudged his fingers aside gently and took over the task of sliding his pants off. If he knew what was going through Zuko's head — and Zuko bet that he did — he didn't comment on it. "Come on, I want my prize," he said simply.

"Only fair if I get mine, too," Zuko replied, shoving away his insecurity and tugging Aang's loose pants and underwear off. He cupped a hand around him, marveling at the feeling of their Aang's still-muscled body pressed against him.

Aang inhaled sharply in surprise, encouraging him silently by running his hands up and down his back. As Zuko wrapped his hand around him, Aang thrust upward into his grip. His fingers dug into the pale skin of Zuko's back. The blazing hot hardness of Aang's flesh between Zuko's fingers was something he had fantasized about too often over the years. Despite the thirty years that had passed since he had touched Aang in this manner, Aang felt familiar in his hand. He felt _right_. Exhilarated, Zuko tightened his grip, deliberately twisting so that his hand grazed the sensitive tip with every stroke.

With a shaking hand, Aang pried Zuko's fingers away, clasping their fingers together against the bed. He used his free hand to grab Zuko's ass with a playful grin. Zuko moaned as Aang pulled him closer, his hips thrusting instinctively. They rutted against each other, kissing intermittently and gasping in each other's mouths.

Zuko's fingers clenched tight against Aang's. Unlike their first raw, desperate time so many years ago, the hot friction was like a slow burn, the glorious feeling consuming Zuko entirely. Keeping his eyes open was a struggle — not to mention maintaining eye contact — but he couldn't bear to miss a second of sharing such pleasure with the man he desired. Filled with burning lust, Aang's eyes almost glowed in the low light as he moaned helplessly.

The delightful sounds emanating from Aang's mouth prompted Zuko to push harder and faster. Sweat and pre-come mingled indiscriminately between them. Aang's hands were traveling up and down Zuko's bare skin, touching him wherever he could and striking his nerves like lightning.

Aang tipped over the edge first. With a jolt, he came, crying out Zuko's name and arching into their embrace. The sight of Aang losing control and the sound of his name on the other man's lips were too much for Zuko. White-hot pleasure spiraled through him, electrifying every nerve ending and wrenching a long, completely undignified moan out of him. The rhythm they had established was lost as they clung to each other and rode out the blissful waves together.

Feeling indestructible, Zuko whispered, "Stay," into the delicate silence of the aftermath. Aang smiled and laid his head on Zuko's shoulder. He leaned up to press a sweet kiss to Zuko's cheek.

"I'm here."

* * *

Sunlight peeked through deep red velvet curtains, striking Zuko in the eyes just as he awoke slowly. Everything felt hazily warm and pleasant, and for the first time in years, he had dreamed a pleasant dream. As awareness began to seep back into him, he noticed that he was naked under his tangled sheets, and that there was a peculiar fluttering sensation against his shoulder, almost like breathing...

His heart performed an impressive somersault in his chest.

Aang lay beside him, pressed against him on his side. His arm was flung across Zuko's lower stomach as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He, too, was not wearing any clothes, and Zuko felt his pulse skyrocket as he remembered the previous night.

Zuko didn't know how long he lay there, just watching Aang sleep and thinking about what lay in their future. The past he tucked away, reassured that he would no longer need to drive himself mad with obsession over it. All the years of longing, of hurt — he would never forget them, but he no longer felt compelled to cling onto them, either. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone, especially not to himself. Ever elusive, perfection had once again slipped from his grasp, but waking up in Aang's arms was so close to perfect that he could almost forget all of the baggage they carried between them.

For the first time in years, Zuko felt simple, unadulterated happiness. He would not ask for or expect anything more.

Eventually, Aang awakened. He peered up at Zuko curiously with wide eyes as he blinked away his sleepiness.

"Hey," Zuko said.

"Hello," Aang replied cheerfully, reaching his hand up to touch Zuko's cheek.

Zuko knew that he was smiling stupidly, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. After all, Aang was grinning at him with an equal amount of unfiltered affection, relief, and best of all, contentment. Zuko kissed him. He couldn't help it. Aang was his now, and he was never going to get enough of him.

"I could get used to this," he said lightly, running his hand along Aang's side. The other man shivered in delight and pressed closer.

"You'd better," Aang replied, rolling over to perch on top of Zuko, holding himself up with his elbows. "I plan to make up for lost time."

"That's no small amount of time," Zuko said, only half-teasingly.

Unfazed, Aang beamed like the sun, dazzlingly bright and unapologetically fierce. He pressed their foreheads gently together. Zuko felt like he had been set ablaze with that single, uncomplicated touch. It was a splendid feeling. And when Aang whispered words against his lips, a hot flare of elation ignited in Zuko's stomach:

"I accept your challenge."

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**END OF BOOK ONE**

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**Notes: **This is the first story in a trilogy. In the next installment, we will learn more about both Aang and Zuko's children, as well as what happened to Mai. I will continue updating this document on here, but the story will be posted in its three separate sections on AO3. Keep your eyes out for it!

Hope you enjoyed this one. Thank you for reading! I am infinitely grateful for your support, which inspires me every day.


	7. Book Two: Chapter 1

**The Fire of a Thousand Suns  
****Book Two: Chapter 1  
****By Amphitrite II  
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**Summary: **_After years of heartache, Aang and Zuko are finally together. But their bliss is interrupted by an age-old Fire Nation worry: the Fire Lord's lack of an heir. Getting wind of the royal gossip, Mai returns to the palace and the man she left decades ago — with the daughter he has never known.  
_**Notes: **And we're back! Again, thank you for your wonderful support. This chapter was originally intended to be a third of the length it turned out to be, but think of its word count as a humble gift from me to you. Enjoy!

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_**Present day, ASC 139**_

Even after three months, there were days when Zuko woke up, found Aang next to him, and still had trouble believing his good fortune. There was something magical about turning over in bed and finding the other man so close. The ease with which he could simply reach over and hold him was miraculous in its own right.

As Zuko coped with his personal disbelief, the kingdom struggled with the notion of the Fire Lord and the Avatar together as more than legendary friends. Although Zuko and Aang had initially tried to keep their relationship from the public, little that went on in the palace was impervious to fueling the far-reaching grapevines of royal gossip. Of course, how they had come to be together was shrouded in mystery. Most of the rumors floating around were ridiculous and based on pure speculation and conspiracy theories. Zuko was relieved that at least that part of their affair was not going to be discussed in the street market or go down in the history books.

His advisors had either come to terms with the new developments or given up on trying to convince him that it was political folly. Zuko was almost glad for it until they put away that particular concern to bring up an old one — the question of Zuko's heir, or lack thereof.

There was a time in his youth when he had assumed that he would marry Mai, who would then bear the children who would inherit his throne. At the time, he had loved and cherished her deeply. It had been the immature, inexperienced love of children, but it had been real in its own way. When he had switched sides in the war, it had pained him to think that they would be fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield. But he had put aside those feelings for the sake of saving the world and devoted little thought to what could have been. Yet in the end, Mai had betrayed Azula to save him. He would never forget that.

They had remained together for four years after the coronation, until Mai had found out about the desperate meetings with his father. He didn't realize until much later that it hadn't been his visits with Ozai that had sparked her rare demonstration of fury — it was that he had been more willing to confide in his imprisoned father and look to him for advice than speak to his own girlfriend about his troubles.

"You love your secrets more than you love me," she had said, ignoring his pleas for her to stay. She had once threatened him never to leave her again, but this time, she had left by her own choice.

He had not taken the loss well, throwing himself into the politics of the Harmony Restoration Movement and its inevitable collapse. His rage and frustration had almost led to the resurrection of war and the nightmarish prospect of fighting opposite Aang once more. Luckily, that disaster had been averted and their friendship strengthened. Neither of them had been ready for the brutality of politics, and after they confronted each other, they had realized they were stronger if they supported each other without letting pride get in the way. Throughout the years, they had let the friendship between Zuko and Aang rust, leaving behind only a tense alliance between the Fire Lord and the Avatar. There would be no more of that, Aang had declared. They were friends first and political powerhouses second.

Not long after that, Zuko fell hard and fast for Aang. But when Aang turned him down the night of his eighteenth birthday, Zuko retreated into himself to mourn and to lick his wounds. It had stung to lose his faith in love and romance. Twice. Still, Zuko forced himself to be strong and to come to terms with the prospect of being alone for the rest of his life.

Then, at Aang's wedding, he had lost it. All the progress he had made in his recovery had slipped the moment he saw Katara and Aang standing together at the altar, looking so happy and good together. He had ended the evening miserably inebriated and weeping in the lavatory, something he could only vaguely remember. Sokka of all people had found him and walked him back to his room, promising not to tell a soul what he had witnessed.

A fortnight later, when Mai had come to him requesting a second chance, he had latched onto the opportunity for companionship. She wasn't Aang, but she was dear to him, and he had begun to think that being alone was detrimental to his health. But after three years of tension, bizarrely heated arguments, and lackluster sex, that had fallen apart, too. Once again, Mai left him, this time with the declaration that she had given up on him and was leaving for Republic City with Ty Lee, who would make a far better partner and lover than him. Zuko had been outraged, but Mai had stood her ground and accused him of wasting his life away pining for Aang. In his shock, he had let her go.

"It's obvious to anyone who knows you, Zuko," she had said when he had fallen into a startled silence. "But I also know you would never have told me. That's what hurts the most."

She had been right, of course, but the betrayal still cut deeply.

That was the last time there had been any prospect of heirs. It was a quandary he tried to avoid pondering. Aang was obviously unlikely to produce any heirs for him, and he could not bear the thought of entering a political marriage solely for the purpose of impregnating some noble girl to satisfy his advisors. Yet as he grew older, inheritance evolved into more and more of a real problem. If he could not produce an heir, generations of his family's reign would come to an end. His relationship with Aang was controversial enough; he would not be responsible for the end of an entire dynasty.

"Stop thinking so hard."

Removing his face from his hands, Zuko glanced over at the plush red couch next to his desk. Aang had been dozing off there, but he was now sitting up and leaning against the arm, looking expectantly at Zuko.

"I'm not," Zuko protested half-heartedly, pretending to continue working on the enormous stacks of paperwork that had taken over his desk. "How was your nap?"

"I was just meditating," Aang replied, to which Zuko chuckled.

"Right," he teased. "Do you always snore when you meditate?"

Aang's indignantly appalled look was priceless. Zuko loved that he wielded the power to dissolve Aang's stoic exterior and get at the fun-loving innocence that hadn't been corroded by years of war and diplomacy. He used it every turn he got. "I do not snore!"

"I think I would know better than you, sweetheart," Zuko said, throwing in a smirk for good measure. Aang, who had raised a gold pillow presumably to throw at him, softened at the endearment. Zuko would never get tired of that, either.

Aang opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a large yawn. Zuko burst out laughing. Aang shot a glare at him, but that only made Zuko laugh harder, especially when Aang was clearly trying to suppress a wide grin.

The moment was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in," Zuko called, sitting up straighter in his stiff chair and composing himself.

"Your majesty," the attendant said with a bouncy bow when he had entered the room. "There are visitors from the United Republic requesting your immediate presence in the throne room."

Aang glanced at Zuko, who nodded, looking puzzled.

"Thank you, Min," he said. "Let them know that I will be right with them."

The man bowed low and left the room.

Curiously, Aang asked, "Losing track of your appointments?"

"No," Zuko said, standing up and glancing into the mirror on the wall briefly. "This is unexpected. It is not often that anyone in the United Republic has need for consorting with the Fire Nation without an appointment. Come with me?"

Aang heaved a sigh. "Must I? Your royal duties can be awfully tedious."

"Don't act as if you have anything better to do," Zuko said.

Indignant, Aang said, "Sure I do. I have books to read and letters to answer."

Zuko rolled his eyes, but the smile on the edge of his lips betrayed his amusement. "You just spent the past forty minutes dozing off. Come with me, and we'll take afternoon tea in the gardens afterward."

Aang hopped to his feet. "Bit cold for being outdoors," he remarked.

Zuko strode over to Aang and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth. He loved that he was allowed these casual shows of affection. He was never, never going to tire of it. "I'll keep you warm. Hurry, now. It won't do to keep my visitors waiting."

They made their way to the throne room. Over the years, Zuko had made significant renovations to the grand room, replacing his father's intimidating War Room décor with deep reds and luminous golds that suggested not the dangerous, murderous aspect of fire but rather its lifegiving ability to emit warmth and light. Of course, the wall of fire before the throne had been the first to go. Tall pillars still lined the room, but they were now grandiose structures carved with dragons, flowers, and curls. The dazzling room's tapestries and high ceilings were embroidered and painted with the same imagery in an attempt to distance himself from Ozai's methods of intimidation.

Zuko took his seat on the throne. Aang stood beside him, hands tucked behind his back. Zuko recognized the serene but serious expression that graced his handsome face as the one he wore in diplomatic meetings. It was the face of the Avatar, endlessly powerful yet peaceful symbol of unity.

"Let them in," Zuko said. The guards at the doors pulled them open, and two other guards escorted the visitors in.

There were three women — two tall, thin figures and a smaller one. As they made their way down the long, red carpet that led to the throne, Aang gasped. Zuko stood immediately as recognition struck him as well. He would know the woman in the center anywhere. Her dark hair, peppered with strands of gray was wound up in a bun at the back of her head, and she wore a familiar grim expression. Her garb was simple, green-gray with hints of maroon and gold, and its billowing folds did nothing to disguise her gangly limbs.

"Hello, Zuko," Mai said pleasantly, with the hint of a wry smile. The crinkles at the corners of her eyes curled upward in sardonic mirth as she and her companions knelt before the throne. "It's been a long time."

"Mai," Zuko said, unable to tamper down his obvious surprise. He realized that the older woman to her side was none other than Ty Lee. She wore a long green coat, loose pants, and tall boots, as was bizarrely fashionable in Republic City nowadays. Her long hair was neatly plaited and trailed down her back. Mai wore her age with a dignified grace, but Ty Lee looked barely over forty. "What in the spirits' name are you doing here?"

"I hear you have need of an heir, your majesty," she responded evenly as she rose to her feet.

"And what business of that is yours?" he replied, completely mystified. "Surely you do not think there is any chance for a revival of our relationship?"

"No," Mai said coldly. "I have no wish to impugn the integrity of your relationship with the Avatar. Congratulations at last, by the way."

Zuko reeled back in surprise. While he had known on a logical level that news must have traveled across country borders by now, it was uncomfortable to know that his personal business was being aired even across seas. He couldn't help but glance at Aang, whose face remained impassive, though his body language was tense.

"I have no patience for your subterfuge," Zuko declared. "State your intention or stop wasting my time."

Mai rolled her eyes, insolent. "Perhaps the Avatar has not done you as much good as I would have hoped. Fine, Zuko. We are here to present to you your heir."

"My what?"

At Mai's nod, the third woman stepped forward. She was tall, with long, jet-black hair that hung loosely around her face. Her high cheekbones, porcelain-pale skin, and golden eyes were uncannily familiar. Dressed in a high-collared red tunic and tight black pants, she wore boots much more egalitarian than Ty Lee's. She had to be at least twenty-five, maybe thirty.

"This is Liang," Mai said, gesturing toward the woman. "Our daughter."

* * *

After what was possibly the most awkward dinner in which he had ever participated, Zuko had an attendant escort Mai, Ty Lee, and Liang to the suites he had had prepared for them. Aang and Zuko wished them a good night and retired to their own chamber in silence, though Aang looped his arm through Zuko's in his as soon as they turned to depart.

"I never got my afternoon tea in the gardens," Aang said sadly as he climbed into bed after getting ready for sleep. Zuko laughed as he finished buttoning up his pajamas and put out the lamps.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised, getting under the thick winter covers. Aang tugged him closer, and he complied.

"What a day," Aang said just as Zuko was falling asleep. "Tell me the truth. Did you know?"

"Hmm?"

"About Liang. She has to be at least Kya's age," Aang speculated. "And you and Mai broke up in 110, so…"

Zuko was surprised that Aang knew that, but he didn't comment on it. "No, I had no idea," he said. "Honestly, I'm still shocked. Things were…not good between us toward the end. We shared beds very rarely."

He could feel Aang scowl against his shoulder. Shaking off his drowsiness, Zuko leaned back so that he could see Aang's face in the moonlight peeking through a gap in the curtains. He reached up to smooth the crease in his forehead.

"What is it?" he asked.

Aang shrugged and buried his face in Zuko's shoulder again. "It's nothing," he said. "I just… I have not been jealous of Mai in many years. It feels something like slipping on a scratchy old cloak."

Alarmed, Zuko tugged at Aang's bare shoulder so that he could look him in the eye. "Jealous? Aang, surely you don't think…"

"No, Zuko," Aang said gently. "I would never doubt your fidelity. It's just strange for me to see the evidence of you and Mai…" Shame crept into his voice. "Well, I did not expect Liang. That's all."

The confession soured Zuko's mood greatly. "Now you know how I felt for the past twenty-five years," he bit out.

"Zuko," Aang tried. "I didn't mean…"

"Yes, Aang, you did," Zuko said tiredly, but this was fatigue of a different kind — deeper, harsher, and achingly familiar in the worst way. "You just admitted that you used to be jealous of Mai, and that your jealousy has reignited due to being confronted with evidence of our sex life. Well, let me assure you that there is nothing to be jealous of. Clearly Mai did not trust me enough to tell me about Liang until now, and I likely would not have trusted her either."

"It's not that," said Aang, sounding like he was trying to tamp down his annoyance. "I'm just sad that we can't have that — a child who is the living evidence of our love."

Trying to calm his own temper, Zuko turned his back to Aang and spoke into his pillow: "Trust me, I know the feeling."

Aang reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you. You asked, and I told you the truth."

Zuko snorted and wriggled away from his touch. "You should know by now that I am not much a fan of the truth." With a sigh, he added, "Let us sleep now. I imagine explaining everything to the council tomorrow will be a complete nightmare."

He felt Aang sigh and curl up into the blankets on the other side of the bed.

Aang just didn't get it, and Zuko was beginning to despair that he ever would. Aang spoke of jealousy like it was an irritant, like it was new. As if he had the right to be angry that Mai had been with Zuko once! As if his fractured relationships with Mai were even the slightest bit comparable to Aang's lifelong commitment to Katara. Sad? Ha! Zuko had burned with jealousy for so many years that he had learned to live with it, grown into it, helplessly let its bitter claws sink into his heart; he had become one with his envy. What did Aang know about that kind of hurt? What did Aang know about that kind of pain?

It certainly wasn't their first dispute since they had decided to be together, but it was the one that hurt the most. And it would be the first time they had gone to sleep without having resolved their anger and frustration.

* * *

Liang was twenty-eight years old and beautiful like a newly forged dagger with glinting edges. Her posture was proud, with a regal grace, and she always made direct eye contact when she spoke. She liked milk in her tea and seemed to have little care for formal etiquette, for which Mai scolded her at frequent intervals. She spoke as if she were accustomed to getting her way — humorlessly authoritative but lacking the entitled haughtiness bred into royalty.

Zuko was at a loss for how to feel or act towards her. She was without doubt his child (the gold eyes were too familiar to deny that), but he was her father in name only. A feeling of hollowness threatened to swallow him as they silently stared at each other across the small table Zuko had had set up on the balcony overlooking the mountains. Wisps of fog danced around the mountaintops in the distance. The crisp air was chilly but smelled like fresh winter. A tea set sat on the table between them, stalwartly trying to bridge the great chasm between them formed from all the years they had not known each other.

"Mother says you loved the Avatar long before you were with him," Liang said. Her voice was carefully devoid of accusation, but to Zuko's ears it sounded barely restrained. He bowed his head, staring at the elegant glass finish of the table.

"I have loved him for a long time," was all that Zuko was comfortable admitting.

"It is obvious," she said. "You gaze at him with not affection borne of familiarity but rather relief, as well as disbelief. You fought long to win him over."

"He loves his wife very much," Zuko said quietly, shame fluttering across his face as he tasted the bitterness of his words on his own tongue.

"Katara of the South Water Tribe," Liang recited. "We learned it in history class, Father."

Zuko nodded. The thought was strange — even stranger than his love life being the topic of overseas gossip. But maybe not as strange as being called father.

"They have children together," Liang said. She seemed to have a habit of speaking in not-quite-questions, as if declaring that she was certain of her inferences and assumptions to the point that she did not need to ask.

"Yes," Zuko said softly, remembering the last time Aang had visited with his children. "Kya, Bumi, and Tenzin." He loathed Kya and Bumi for their boisterous, rowdy natures, but Tenzin was quiet and intellectual and always respectful of Zuko, unlike the other two. Zuko was really quite fond of him. He really, really hoped that Tenzin wouldn't hold it against Zuko that his father had left his mother for him.

Liang smiled wryly. Zuko realized that he had yet to see a true smile grace her face. She was Mai's, all right. "Then they are my stepsiblings of a sort."

Zuko wrinkled his nose. "I suppose so, technically. You have to understand that I've never given thought to any of this coming to pass."

Lian laughed sharply at his obvious discomfort.

"What do they do?"

"Uh…" Zuko said, trying to remember. "Tenzin studies at Republic City University. Bumi is in the United Forces — a general, I believe — and Kya is a real estate agent in the city."

Liang nodded. "I always wished for siblings," she admitted. "I do not make friends easily, and Mother refused to raise another, even though if Ma had her way, we would probably be a family of ten."

Of course, Ty Lee came from a large family and would have expected that. Zuko could hardly imagine Mai raising one child; the thought of her raising multiple was so nightmarishly hilarious that he had to suppress his laugh with a cough. He nodded again, awkward.

"So what do you do? For a living?" He realized suddenly that he had no idea how Mai or Ty Lee made their living, either.

"I am an attorney," she replied not without pride, sitting up straighter in her seat. "I prosecute on behalf of those who suffer at the hands of greedy industrialists."

Zuko felt a strange surge of pride at that pronouncement. She had a passion for law enforcement as well as a knack for defending the helpless, then. A Fire Lord in the making. Mai certainly knew what she was doing. For a brief moment, Zuko wondered if she had raised Liang with the intention of usurping his throne. But no, Mai had never been power hungry or swayed toward revenge. It would require her to put too much effort into caring.

"It sounds like you have done well for yourself," he said, and added, "and that you have a strong foundation for a potential ruler." She bowed her head graciously. "Would you be interested in inheriting the throne?"

"I would be honored to help you in any way I can, Father," she said. "But you must understand that I do not come here looking to usurp your authority."

Zuko just observed her for a moment. Her eyes blazed with sincerity and determination, her expression fixed in steadfast conviction. For a moment, Zuko thought of Azula, but Liang bore no malice or condescension in her expression.

"Ordinarily, the heir apparent would already possess knowledge about court from living in the palace. There is much you will have to catch up on. Are you prepared to dedicate yourself to learning the ways of the court and the ways of the kingdom?"

Liang bowed her head. "Yes, Father. I am prepared."

"Very well then," Zuko said. "You will accompany me to the council meeting after lunch."

* * *

To Zuko's pleasant surprise, Liang was a natural. She spent her two days in council meetings silent and still as a statue, only her sharp eyes showing any indication that she was following the conversations. On the third day, she spoke up, reciting the three biggest corporations to the west, their executives, and their assets. On the fourth, she proposed a clever solution to satisfying the leaders of two warring villages in the south. On the fifth, with eyes glinting like melted gold, she argued with Jozon, Zuko's most cantankerous councilor, and called him an out-of-touch curmudgeon whose refusal to lower the kingdom's taxes on those who could barely feed themselves would doom the Fire Nation and Zuko's rule. To be fair, Jozon had challenged her ability and knowledge of the workings of the kingdom, as well as accused her of being a United Republic sympathizer.

Zuko was impressed and very proud that Liang was not only intelligent but clearly a force to be reckoned with. He gave her a stack of books and documents to study so that she could prove her worth to anyone who dared challenge her. She accepted them with a solemn nod and though he had not declared any expectations, she said quietly, "I will not disappoint you, Father."

And through it all, Zuko was shamefully aware that he was grabbing at straws trying to see himself in Liang. He had not raised her, as he felt a father should (his own had certainly stopped bothering after he was old enough to think for himself), and that filled him with profound regret.

He could see the roots of Mai in her — her stoic nature, the serious slant of her shoulders, and the way her smiles seemed to barely graze the surface of her skin. He could see Azula and Ozai in her — ferocity in the way she stared down her opponents and wild ambition in the confident upward tilt of her chin. And she seemed to have inherited Sozin and Azulon's skill at strategy, which Zuko was happy to see her be able to apply to peace rather than war. Even Ty Lee's kind heart had passed along to her — more often than not Liang's arguments stemmed from a stubborn, almost idealistic, desire to protect the forsaken and the defenseless.

Yet he strained to see himself in her. She had his golden eyes, but so much composure. Zuko wasn't sure he had as much composure as she did, and he was nearly twice her age. His councilors knew very well that his temper was short and his patience fleeting at best.

"I may have sired Liang, but I see so little of myself in her," Zuko confessed to Aang as they practiced kata in the courtyard while morning dew still glistened on the shrubs around them. "Ty Lee is her other parent, not me."

Aang gave him an amused, exasperated look. "Really, Zuko? She's intelligent, iron-willed, fair, and compassionate behind all that bluster. When I speak to her, I feel like I'm speaking to a younger incarnation of you."

Zuko blinked. "You've spoken to Liang? Alone?" He had been so caught up in everything that he hadn't even thought about Aang and his daughter talking. He wondered if they had spoken of him, and if so, what had been said. It wasn't like they had much else in common, after all.

"Well, yes," Aang said. "Did you think I was just going to ignore her?"

"No," Zuko said defensively, though he hadn't really considered it at all.

"Good, because I'm not," Aang said. "She's interesting. Much more serious than my children. Perhaps she and Tenzin would get along."

Zuko frowned. "I thought you were upset at her."

Aang paused in the middle of a move and stood up ramrod straight. "I'm not upset _at_ her, Zuko," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "It's hardly her fault that you and Mai were together."

"Oh, so you're upset at me, then," Zuko said sulkily, mood suddenly gone sour.

Aang sighed. "No, I'm upset at the…situation," he concluded lamely, shaking his head as if trying to physically knock the emotion out of his mind. "But I'll deal with it."

Zuko laid a hand on Aang's shoulder, tightening his grip briefly. He couldn't help the harsh tone his words took when he said: "I don't _want_ you to just deal with it, Aang. We have both done too much of that in this life."

Aang shrugged and looked away, though his hand came up to cover Zuko's gently. "It'll be okay. This was never going to be easy, right?"

"Yes, but I hate that this is coming between us," Zuko admitted, "and that there is nothing I can do about it. I know you're not happy about all of this, but I need an heir, Aang. You must understand that."

"I understand it perfectly, Zuko," Aang responded grumpily, and then he added more hesitantly, "and it's not coming between us," although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself of the fact. "She's your daughter, Zuko. I'm not going to begrudge you the chance at having a family, especially not on the behalf of petty jealousies of trysts long past."

Zuko bowed his head and turned his hand over to entwine his fingers with Aang's. It was strange thinking of Liang as family. He had felt more connected to Azula even at the peak of her insanity, though he certainly _liked_ Liang better. And he realized that he wanted desperately for her to like him as well.

"Do you think she likes me?" he voiced quietly. It shamed him, admitting such weakness, but he remembered a time when he didn't have Aang here with him all the time, offering a kind ear. If he didn't trust Aang with such wild thoughts, then who could he trust?

Aang smiled, his thumb caressing the smooth, pale skin of Zuko's hand reassuringly. "Just because you didn't have a hand in raising her doesn't mean she hasn't been influenced by you. Do you know what she told me when I spoke to her the other day? She spoke of honor and of ruling with a fair and just hand. She quoted from your speeches — speeches that you gave decades ago. And Ty Lee told me that when she was a child, Liang used to eat up any and all books and documents about you and your actions in the war. She wrote her university thesis on you. You've been her hero all her life, Zuko. I don't think you have to worry about her liking you."

"All the more to live up to," Zuko said, although he was humbled by the glimpse into what Liang really thought of him. Aang was likely exaggerating, but the sentiment was one that made warmth bloom in his heart. He thought about the way his life had, in his youth, hinged on his father's approval and made a silent promise to himself to never begrudge Liang the love and attention she deserved, or to pressure her with unrealistic expectations and throw her failures cruelly in her face (especially not literally).

Then Zuko blinked as he processed the rest of what Aang had just said. "You talked to Ty Lee, too?"

The amused expression resurfaced. "Zuko, do you think the only person I talk to here is you? Ty Lee and I do have some uncomfortable feelings in common right now, you realize. And that is her child you are putting on the throne."

"Have you spoken to Mai?" Zuko asked because he couldn't resist. He ignored Aang's subtle jab and felt a pang of guilty satisfaction when Aang shrunk into himself a little and looked ashamed.

"No," he said. "I don't know what we would say to one another."

Zuko sighed, remembering all the years of painfully awkward, stilted conversations with Katara when Aang's family visited the Fire Nation. In the later years, they had simply given up on trying to maintain the façade of friendship. It had been difficult enough when Katara didn't trust him back during the war, but after Aang had come between them, trying to get along was just too difficult. Too much bitterness had been sowed in their relationship, and they were both too stubborn for their own good. Zuko had always suspected that Aang had told Katara about the night they spent together as well as the kiss years later, because the way Katara looked at him was much more intense than simple suspicion. He wondered how much she must hate him now for breaking up their family.

He wanted to feel bad, but to his shame, he couldn't muster up the emotion. He tried his best to be fair had never professed to be good.

"No, I suppose there isn't really anything to say," Zuko agreed.

After all, Mai had won, in a way, just as Katara had. She had mothered his child, raised his child, and though Zuko was much too old and tired to even think about raising children — that was something that Aang would never be able to give him.

Zuko could not help but think back to those all those lonely years and wonder how different things could have been if he had been a father rather than a sovereign growing bitter with loneliness and rejection. Then again, the way he and Mai were toward the end of their relationship — it would have done a child no good to be raised by parents who were barely civil to each other. Not for the first time in his life, Zuko felt a lingering jealousy curl in his belly at the thought of Aang and how he and Katara had been afforded the chance to see three children grow into themselves. But as he was accustomed to doing, he pushed the feeling away. It would do him no good now. He had Aang, and now Liang was here. He would make the most of what had been given to him and dwell no more.

* * *

Zuko tried to delay it for as long as he could, but seeing as he had given Mai and Ty Lee a home in his palace for as long as they wished to stay, encountering Mai alone and being forced to make niceties was rather inevitable.

They took tea on the same balcony that Zuko had first met with Liang, and the silence was no less awkward than it had been then, though the storied history added a heavy burden to it. Zuko refused to buckle under the pressure, but it was no easy feat with the way Mai was staring impassively at him, face unreadable.

"Are you angry with me for not telling you?" Mai said after a long, painful silence fraught with decades-old tension.

Zuko didn't ask what she was referring to. There could be nothing else. "The time has passed for anger. There is only regret for having been deprived of the chance to raise my child." He glanced at Mai, who raised an eyebrow. "Our child."

"Ty Lee and I raised her well," Mai said haughtily. Zuko had never seen such pride displayed so prominently on her face before. Mai had always been too proud to display her pride.

"I do not doubt it," Zuko replied. "I simply wish I had been able to have some hand in it. She is a stranger to me, Mai. My own daughter is a stranger to me. She sees me as a king, not a father, and I don't know how to speak to her to make her think otherwise."

Mai didn't reply for a long time. "She grew up worshipping you, Zuko," she said, and again Zuko was surprised to hear bitterness in her voice. Ty Lee must have done wonders in the years since they had left the Fire Nation, tearing down Mai's carefully guarded walls and calculated apathy. "While the other children played in the streets, Liang spent her time in the library, memorizing your speeches. As a child, all she spoke of was you. I fled this land to be rid of you, but there was no escape."

"You could have kept my identity from her," Zuko pointed out. "Why didn't you?"

Mai narrowed his eyes at him. "Do not mistake my departure for shame, Zuko," she said. "I loved you dearly. But our life together would only lead to ruin." And here her voice grew quieter. "And a bitter, angry king is no king at all."

Zuko digested this in silence, drumming his fingers against the warm porcelain of his teacup. For all their discord, Mai would have made a fine queen. She was intelligent, willful when she wanted to be, and possibly the most dignified person Zuko had ever known.

"I wanted her to know who her father was," Mai said. "So that she would know her lineage and could be proud of it, and to set a precedent for her behavior. You would do well to appreciate that, Zuko."

"I appreciate it plenty, thank you," Zuko said, trying not to be annoyed.

"It's not good enough," Mai objected. You treat her as an heir, not a daughter, and you do not see her for her hopes and desires."

"I know what I've seen," Zuko said. "She is mine in flesh and blood but not in character. Honestly, I see more of Azula in her than I do of myself."

Furious, Mai stood up and drew herself to her full height. "Do not compare my daughter to that woman!" she snapped, and Zuko really had forgotten how terrifying it was to witness the rare occasions when she raised her voice. He could nearly see the wild fire in her eyes. He lowered his head apologetically and wrapped his fingers around his cup as he gazed at the amber-colored liquid.

"Would you have kept her existence a secret from me forever if you had not heard that I lacked an heir?" he wondered aloud.

"Yes," Mai said without hesitation. Her robes fluttered around her as she reclaimed her seat. "The Fire Nation will always be my home, and you have been a good Fire Lord, Zuko — a fair and just one who has led our people to prosperity. I came to ensure that your line would continue. I owe you nothing more."

Zuko looked up and met her squarely in the eyes. "It's not about what you owe me, Mai," he said. "It's about what you owe her."

"I would give my life for Liang," Mai said with conviction, indignation written clear on her face. "I love her more than anything in the world."

"I know you would give her your life," Zuko said softly. "But would you give her her father?"

Mai didn't say anything, staring at the table as if trying to divine its secrets. A muscle in her jaw twitched, but still she remained silent.

"Do you think I'm going to steal her away from you?" he continued, annoyed when she showed no sign of responding. "She's twenty-eight, Mai; she can make decisions for herself. She can and will judge me for herself. What the hell do you think you are protecting her from?"

"You know nothing about being a father," she said finally.

"Correct," he agreed. "Because you have never given me a chance to learn. Will you now?"

"I don't know," Mai said. "I just don't know."

* * *

Then, one afternoon, Zuko stumbled upon Aang and Liang bending together.

He had not even thought about questioning his daughter's bending ability; he had simply expected it. The blood of the some of the greatest firebenders in history ran through her, after all. But it was clear that though Liang seemed to have the firepower, she was untrained and lacked control over the flames that burst out of the palms of her hands. She moved with the swift sharpness of practiced hand-to-hand combat, and Zuko remembered belatedly that neither Mai nor Ty Lee were benders — and that things were different in the United Republic.

He sat on the stone steps and watched them silently, doing his best not to alert them of his presence. Aang, always hyperaware of his surroundings, met his eyes and gave him a small smile without pausing his movements.

The familiar old pang of jealousy mingled with the nostalgia in his chest as he watched Aang show Liang the Dancing Dragon and how to incorporate it into her combat style. Aang spoke to Liang not only as a pupil but as if she were his child, demonstrating the gestures and correcting her posture in a paradoxically stern but patient manner. Just from the way he spoke to her, it was obvious that he was a good father — an experienced father. Zuko's clumsy attempts at serving as a respectable role model seemed absurdly feeble and almost embarrassing in comparison. Not for the first time in his life, he wished that he had been given a chance to raise his own children.

There was a sudden flare of heat, and Zuko looked up as Liang leapt and flung a mighty fireball that just barely singed Aang's eyebrows off. With a smooth and effortless motion, Aang put out the fire just before it struck a tree in the distance.

Zuko rose to his feet, clapping.

"Father!" Liang said in surprise, whirling around to stare at him in horror. "How long have you been there?"

Aang's eyes twinkled as Zuko smiled gently at her anxiety. "Long enough to see that you will make a fine warrior, Liang."

Looking down at her feet, she said quietly, "I have much to learn. I wish I had been schooled in firebending at a younger age, but in the city, bending is more a hobby than a way of life, and I have never had anyone with whom to practice."

Zuko wondered at that and remembered Liang had said that she did not make friends easily. Perhaps it was the curse of all his ancestors and descendants. At least Zuko had always been able to comfort himself with the thought that princes and kings didn't have friends — they had advisors, and servants, and subjects. And, well. He had Aang. And Liang had her parents. All of them.

"Be patient," Zuko said. "You have plenty of people to practice with now, and with training and conviction, you will learn. I have faith that you will defend the Fire Nation honorably if the time ever comes."

Liang lifted her chin and stood up straighter. "I only wish to be worthy, Father," she said. "To make you proud."

Zuko laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Dear child," he said, the words so strange yet rolling off his tongue so easily, "you have already made me proud."

* * *

That night at dinner, Mai kept glancing between Liang and Zuko and smiling fondly at him, her thin features lighting up in a way that he remembered from a very, very long time ago.

"Thank you," she mouthed across the table toward the end of the meal, most of which Zuko had spent asking Liang about the cases she had taken on in her impressive career and praising her for all the ones in which she had been victorious. Zuko accepted Mai's admission with a curt nod as relief flooded him from head to toe. Perhaps he wouldn't make such a terrible father after all. Perhaps there was hope for him after all.

* * *

Zuko's heart was racing in his chest, panic gripping him as he watched Aang move around their room.

"What are you doing?" Zuko demanded, eyes darting from the traveling bag on their bed to the armful of clothing Aang was gathering from the closet. Aang gave him a unreadable look.

"I'm going to visit my family," Aang said, as if he were discussing the weather.

"What? In the United Republic? _Why?_"

"Do I really need to explain why I would miss my family?"

The repeated use of the word stung, though Zuko knew it was petty. "No, but you should explain why you would decide this all of a sudden without notifying me in advance."

Aang gave him another veiled look, this one with a hint of anger. "You are not my keeper, Zuko. I will go where I please, when I please."

"Yes, but," Zuko trailed off, unable to argue against that logic. He certainly had no wish to keep Aang where he didn't want to be. But the awful thought of Aang leaving made him sick to his stomach with fear. What if he didn't come back? What if he decided that he had made the wrong decision after all? What if Zuko had to go back to that lonely, desolate existence after knowing how wonderful it felt to be really, truly loved?

Oblivious to his inner conflict, Aang sighed and shoved his clothing unceremoniously into the bag. "What is it, Zuko," he said, and for the first time in the past two weeks Zuko heard the exhaustion in his voice.

"It's just… I thought this was where you wanted to be."

Aang scrubbed at his face. How had Zuko not noticed the bags under his eyes before? Guilt gnawed at him now that he couldn't stop seeing them; he had been so caught up in his own tumult that he hadn't been paying attention to the stress all this upheaval was taking on Aang. He was getting himself so worked up that he almost missed Aang's reply.

"It is," Aang said. "Of course it is."

"But?" Zuko prompted, taking advantage of Aang's distraction by retrieving the half-packed bag and clenching it tightly. Aang looked like he would rather be anywhere than having this conversation with him, and the thought of his reluctance to talk about something so important upset Zuko more than he would ever admit.

"I saw how she looked at you," Aang said finally, yanking the bag from Zuko. "Like you were some wonderful gift to mankind."

"Aren't I, though?" Zuko joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood even though he felt like he was going to throw up any second. He had never been very good at joking. Aang didn't even crack a smile. "Who, though? Who was looking at me like that?"

Aang gave him an incredulous look.

"Are you talking about Mai?"

"Yes, Zuko, I'm talking about your ex-girlfriend," Aang said, rolling his eyes. Zuko hated that. Aang was never cruel like that. It was uncalled for and completely unfair.

"That was years ago!" Zuko retorted, unable to stop himself from shouting. "Decades, even! What the hell is your problem?"

Glaring, Aang poked him in the center of his chest, hard. "My _problem_ is that the mother of your child is hanging out in your palace, making snarky comments about our relationship and looking at you as if the spirits had personally sent you down from the heavens, while the mother of _my_ children is suffering because I abandoned her to be here, with you!"

"You can take your little guilt trip and shove it, Aang," Zuko hissed. "I didn't know it was such a hardship, being here with me. It's not as if I forced you to leave Katara."

"It's not as if I had a choice!"

"You were the only one with a choice!" Zuko roared in outrage. "Katara and me, we were the one without choices! You think being around Mai is so hard? How do you think I felt all those summers when you brought your whole damn family here? How do you think I felt then, watching you and Katara kiss and hug and love each other so fucking openly and knowing that I would never have a chance? Seeing your children grow year by year and wishing I was the one raising them with you?"

"This isn't about that," Aang growled. "Don't make this something it's not, Zuko. You can't begrudge me jealousy, you can't! You think I want to feel this awful every time I watch you interact with Mai or Liang calls you 'Father'?"

"You have no right to be jealous! After everything I've been through for you, _you have no right_."

"You're being ridiculously childish," Aang shot back. "You seem to be deluded that because I was with Katara, your jealousy is somehow more legitimate! You fancy yourself some kind of twisted martyr just because you loved me through my marriage. I didn't ask you to stay in love with me, Zuko, I didn't! But you couldn't help it, just as I couldn't help being in love with _you_ despite everything. And you couldn't help being jealous, just as I can't help being jealous now! But your jealousy doesn't nullify my jealousy! This isn't something you can be righteous about!"

"Damn it, Aang," Zuko swore. Damn him for seeing right through Zuko, and damn him for not being afraid to tell him like it was. Damn him for always being right, and _damn him_ for making Zuko feel contrite.

"I just need time," Aang said, taking advantage of his speechlessness. "All this has happened so fast, and things had been going so smoothly, and I just… I need to sort things out in my head. I'm tired, Zuko, and I don't want to fight with you like this. I don't want to fight with you at all."

Zuko didn't dignify him with an answer, still wounded and furious.

"I just need to get away for a little while. Will you wait for me?" asked Aang. And in that moment, Zuko hated that he knew Aang well enough to hear the fear and trepidation in his voice. This would be so much easier if Aang weren't…Aang.

Everything hurt, and Zuko could practically feel his energy drain out of him. So he just gathered up the last dredges of his ire and said viciously, "I've only ever waited for you like a complete idiot nearly my entire life. Why ever would I stop now?" before whirling out of the room.

.

.

* * *

**Notes:** In Mandarin Chinese, _liang_ is pronounced something like "Leon" but as one syllable, and it translates to "bright," which I thought thematically appropriate.

.


End file.
